'In red and gold the Corps-Commander stood,
With ribboned breast puffed out for all to see:
He'd sworn to beat the Germans if he could;
For God had taught him strength and strategy.
He was our leader, and a judge of port - 
Rode well to hounds, and was a damned good sort.
"Eyes right!" We passed him with a jaunty stare.
"Eyes front!" He'd watched his trusted legions go
I wonder if he guessed how many there
Would get knocked out of time in next week's show.
"Eyes right!" The corpse-commander was a Mute
And Death leered round him, taking our salute.