"How happy we shall be," he said,
"When the war is o'er, and when
With victory's song and victory's tread
We all march home again."
Ah little he dreamed--that soldier brave
So near his journey's goal--
How soon a heavenly messenger
Would claim his Christian soul.
But he fell like a hero--fighting,
And hearts with grief are filled;
And honor is his,--tho' the Captain says
"Only a _private_ killed."
I knew him well,--he was my friend;
He loved our land and laws,
And he fell a blessed martyr
To our Country's holy cause;
And I know a cottage in the West
Where eyes with tears are filled
As they read the careless telegram--
"Only a _private_ killed."
Comrades, bury him under the oak,
Wrapped in his army-blue;
He is done with the battle's din and smoke,
With drill and the proud review.
And the time will come ere long, perchance,
When our blood will thus be spilled,
And what care we if the Captain say--
"Only a _private_ killed."
For the glorious Old Flag beckons.
We have pledged her heart and hand,
And we'll brave even death to rescue
Our dear old Fatherland.
We ask not praise--nor honors,
Then--as each grave is filled--
What care we if the Captain say--
"Only a _private_ killed.
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