Classic Poem

Oh , when I was a private in the army,
When I was in the late lamented war,
I considered it a trifle to manipulate a rifle,
And I didn't mind the heavy pack I bore,
Oh,
I rather liked the heavy pack I bore.
Though I cheerfully performed my menial functions,
Yet one duty all my tender feelings hurt;
'Twas " to walk my post in a military manner,
Keeping constantly on the alert. "

No, I never heard the shriek of German shrapnel,
Nor destruction pouring from the cannon's mouth.
To all military danger I, in fact, was quite a stranger,
For I fought the bloodless Battle of the South.
Oh,
The horror of that Battle of the South!
Still one task with bitter hatred and with loathing
Filled the warlike heart that beat beneath my shirt;
'Twas " to walk my post in a military manner,
Keeping constantly on the alert. "

Now my military days are gone forever,
And I cannot say it fills me with regret,
For the noble job of warring was, I found, distinctly boring,
And I wouldn't join the army on a bet.
No,
They couldn't get me back there on a bet.
Still of all the troubles that beset a soldier,
Far the most unpleasant duty, I assert,
Was " to walk my post in a military manner,
Keeping constantly on the alert. "