‘Bobs’

There's a little red-faced man,
              Which is Bobs,
Rides the tallest 'orse 'e can- 
              Our Bobs. 
If it bucks or kicks or rears, 
'E can sit for twenty years 
With a smile round both 'is ears- 
              Can't yer, Bobs?  

Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur -
              little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! 
E's our pukka Kandahader- 
              Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! 
E's the Dook of Aggy Chel;
E's the man that done us well, 
An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell 
              Won't we, Bobs?  

If a limber's slipped a trace, 
              'Ook on Bobs. 
If a marker's lost 'is place, 
              Dress by Bobs. 
For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat, 
An' a bugle in 'is throat, 
An' you will not play the goat 
              Under Bobs.  

E's a little down on drink, 
              Chaplain Bobs; 
But it keeps us outer Clink 
              Don't it, Bobs? 
So we will not complain 
Tho' ‘e’s water on the brain, 
If 'e leads us straight again-- 
              Blue-light Bobs.  

If you stood 'im on 'is head, 
              Father Bobs, 
You could spill a quart of lead 
              Outer Bobs.
'E's been at it thirty years 
An-amassin' souveneers 
In the way o' slugs an' spears- 
              Ain't yer, Bobs?  

What 'e does not know o' war, 
              Gen'ral Bobs, 
You can arst the shop next door- 
              Can't they, Bobs? 
Oh, 'e's little but he's wise, 
'E's terror for 'is size, 
An--'e-does-not-advertise- 
              Do yer, Bobs?  

Now they've made a bloomin' Lord 
              Outer Bobs, 
Which was but 'is fair reward- 
              Weren't it, Bobs? 
So 'e'll wear a coronet 
Where 'is 'elmet used to set; 
But we know you won't forget- 
              Will yer, Bobs?  

Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-
              little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, 
Pocket-Wellin'ton 'an arder 
              Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! 
This ain't no bloomin' ode,
But you've 'elped the soldier's load, 
An' for benefits bestowed, 
              Bless yer, Bobs!