LIEUTENANT COLONEL FLARE
               by W. S. Gilbert

The earth has armies plenty,
     And semi-warlike bands,
I dare say there are twenty
     In European lands;
But, oh! in no direction
     You'd find one to compare
In brotherly affection
     With that of COLONEL FLARE.

His soldiers might be rated
     As military Pearls:
As unsophisticated
     As 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 teaching
     These truly solemn facts;
There's little use in preaching,
     Or circulating tracts.
(The vainest plan invented
     For stifling other creeds,
Unless it's supplemented
     With charitable deeds.)

He taught his soldiers kindly
     To give at Hunger's call:
"Oh, better far give blindly,
     Than never give at all!
Though sympathy be kindled
     By Imposition's game,
Oh, better far be swindled
     Than smother up its flame!"

His means were far from ample
     For pleasure or for dress,
Yet note this bright example
     Of single-heartedness:
Though ranking as a Colonel,
     His pay was but a groat,
While their reward diurnal
     Was--each a five-pound note.

Moreover,--this evinces
     His kindness, you'll allow,--
He fed them all like princes,
     And lived himself on cow.
He set them all regaling
     On 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 ration
     He'd take in change for his;
They brought it to him meekly,
     And he without a groan,
Would take it from them meekly
     And give them all his own!

Though not exactly knighted
     As knights, of course, should be,
Yet no one so delighted
     In harmless chivalry
If peasant girl or ladye
     Beneath misfortunes sank,
Whate'er distinctions made he,
     They were not those of rank.

No maiden young and comely
     Who wanted good advice
(However poor or homely)
     Need ask him for it twice.
He'd wipe away the blindness
     That comes of teary dew;
His sympathetic kindness
     No sort of limit knew.

He always hated dealing
     With 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 detecting
     The crimes that others do.


For men who'd shoot a sparrow,
     Or immolate a worm
Beneath a farmer s harrow,
     He could not find a term.
Humanely, ay, and knightly
     He 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 twenty
     In European lands;
But, oh! in no direction
     You'd find one to compare
In brotherly affection
     With that of COLONEL FLARE.