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Поэзия и песни
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"Fuzzy-Wuzzy"

 (SOUDAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE)
 
 We`ve fought with many men acrost the seas,
 An` some of `em was brave an` some was not
 The Paythan an` the Zulu an` Burmese;
 But the Fuzzy was the finest o` the lot.
 We never got a ha`porth`s change of `im:
 `E squatted in the scrub an` `ocked our `orses,
 `E cut our sentries up at Suakim,
 An` `e played the cat an` banjo with our forces.
 
 So `ere`s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your `ome in the Soudan;
 You`re a pore benighted `eathen but a first-class fightin` man;
 We gives you your certificate, an` if you want it signed
 We`ll come an` `ave a romp with you whenever you`re inclined.
 
 We took our chanst among the Kyber `ills,
 The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
 The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
 An` a Zulu impi dished us up in style:
 But all we ever got from such as they
 Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
 We `eld our bloomin` own, the papers say,
 But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us `oller.
 
 Then `ere`s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an` the missis and the kid;
 Our orders was to break you, an` of course we went an` did.
 We sloshed you with Martinis, an` it wasn`t `ardly fair;
 But for all the odds agin` you, Fuzzy-Wuz you broke the square.
 
 `E `asn`t got no papers of `is own,
 `E `asn`t got no medals nor rewards,
 So we must certify the skill `e`s shown
 In usin` of `is long two-`anded swords:
 When `e`s `oppin` in an` out among the bush
 With `is coffin-`eaded shield an` shovel-spear,
 An `appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
 Will last an `ealthy Tommy for a year.
 
 So `ere`s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an` your friends which are no more,
 If we `adn`t lost some messmates we would `elp you to deplore;
 But give an` take`s the gospel, an` we`ll call the bargain fair,
 For if you `ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!
 
 `E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
 An`, before we know, `e`s `ackin` at our `ead;
 `E`s all `ot sand an` ginger when alive,
 An` `e`s generally shammin` when `e`s dead.
 `E`s a daisy, `e`s a ducky, `e`s a lamb!
 `E`s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
 `E`s the on`y thing that doesn`t give a damn
 For a Regiment o` British Infantree!
 
 So `ere`s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your `ome in the Soudan;
 You`re a pore benighted `eathen but a first-class fightin` man;
 An` `ere`s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your `ayrick `ead of `air--
 You big black boundin` beggar--for you broke a British square!
 

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