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(Our Army in the East)

  Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea:

  ‘Ere’s September come again – the six-year men are free.

  O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come away

  To where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ‘ome to-day.

     We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome,

      Our ship is at the shore,

     An’ you must pack your ‘aversack,

      For we won’t come back no more.

     Ho, don’t you grieve for me,

      My lovely Mary-Ann,

     For I’ll marry you yit on a fourp’ny bit

      As a time-expired man.

  The Malabar’s in ‘arbour with the Jumner at ‘er tail,

  An’ the time-expired’s waitin’ of ‘is orders for to sail.

  Ho! the weary waitin’ when on Khyber ‘ills we lay,

  But the time-expired’s waitin’ of ‘is orders ‘ome to-day.

  They’ll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold an’ wet an’ rain,

  All wearin’ Injian cotton kit, but we will not complain;

  They’ll kill us of pneumonia – for that’s their little way —

  But damn the chills and fever, men, we’re goin’ ‘ome to-day!

  Troopin’, troopin’, winter’s round again!

  See the new draf’s pourin’ in for the old campaign;

  Ho, you poor recruities, but you’ve got to earn your pay —

  What’s the last from Lunnon, lads?  We’re goin’ there to-day.

  Troopin’, troopin’, give another cheer —

  ‘Ere’s to English women an’ a quart of English beer.

  The Colonel an’ the regiment an’ all who’ve got to stay,

  Gawd’s mercy strike ‘em gentle – Whoop! we’re goin’ ‘ome to-day.

      We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome,

       Our ship is at the shore,

      An’ you must pack your ‘aversack,

       For we won’t come back no more.

      Ho, don’t you grieve for me,

       My lovely Mary-Ann,

      For I’ll marry you yit on a fourp’ny bit

       As a time-expired man.