A hundred different times he has stood upon the square,
Dressed in Ceremonials, a Soldier beyond compare,
He first put on the Uniform in the service of the realm,
When Elizabeths’ father George, had held the nations helm.
He took his part proudly in occasions of State,
As they buried old Soldiers, or as Royalty took a mate,
Now twenty years of service comes proudly to it's close.
As her Majesty approaches, and gently strokes his nose.
A cheer comes from the regiment as he passes down the line,
And is led away slowly to the strains of "Auld Lang Syne",
For a life time of Service given freely that now has run it's course,
We thank our brother Soldier, the indomitable "old warhorse".