Lieutenant-Colonel Flare
THE earth has armies plenty,And semi-warlike bands,I dare say there are twentyIn European lands;But, oh! in no directionYou’d find one to compareIn brotherly affectionWith that of COLONEL FLARE.
His soldiers might be ratedAs military Pearls.As unsophisticatedAs pretty little girls!They never smoked or ratted,Or talked of Sues or Polls;The Sergeant-Major tatted,The others nursed their dolls.
He spent his days in teachingThese truly solemn facts;There’s little use in preaching,Or circulating tracts.(The vainest plan inventedFor stifling other creeds,Unless it’s supplementedWith charitable deeds.)
He taught his soldiers kindlyTo give at Hunger’s call:“Oh, better far give blindly,Than never give at all!Though sympathy be kindledBy Imposition’s game,Oh, better far be swindledThan smother up its flame!”
His means were far from ampleFor pleasure or for dress,Yet note this bright exampleOf single-heartedness:Though ranking as a Colonel,His pay was but a groat,While their reward diurnalWas—each a five-pound note.
Moreover,—this evincesHis kindness, you’ll allow,—He fed them all like princes,And lived himself on cow.He set them all regalingOn curious wines, and dear,While he would sit pale-ale-ing,Or quaffing ginger-beer.
Then at his instigation(A pretty fancy this)Their daily pay and rationHe’d take in change for his;They brought it to him weekly,And he without a groan,Would take it from them meeklyAnd give them all his own!
Though not exactly knightedAs knights, of course, should be,Yet no one so delightedIn harmless chivalry.If peasant girl or ladyeBeneath misfortunes sank,Whate’er distinctions made he,They were not those of rank.
No maiden young and comelyWho wanted good advice(However poor or homely)Need ask him for it twice.He’d wipe away the blindnessThat comes of teary dew;His sympathetic kindnessNo sort of limit knew.
He always hated dealingWith men who schemed or planned;A person harsh—unfeeling—The Colonel could not stand.He hated cold, suspecting,Official men in blue,Who pass their lives detectingThe crimes that others do.
For men who’d shoot a sparrow,Or immolate a wormBeneath a farmer’s harrow,He could not find a term.Humanely, ay, and knightlyHe dealt with such an one;He took and tied him tightly,And blew him from a gun.
The earth has armies plenty,And semi-warlike bands,I’m certain there are twentyIn European lands;But, oh! in no directionYou’d find one to compareIn brotherly affectionWith that of COLONEL FLARE.