Poems (Brown)/The Dying Volunteer

by Carrie L. Brown

THE DYING VOLUNTEER. 

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Kiss me once more, dear mother,
 Ere the light of day has fled;
When this brave young form is cold,
 And you gaze upon me dead.

I have fallen for my country,—
 'Tis to her I give my life,—
For the Southern chain did gall us,
 And brought on this deadly strife.

Hark! upon the distant hill-side
 Methinks I hear the cannon's sound!
And I see the dark red life-stream
 Trickling slowly to the ground.

Hark! I hear the captains shouting
 "Onward! onward! men so true;"
And now along the steeps they're rushing
 Bravely on—those "boys in blue."

Mother, I see them swing their caps,
 As they meet the rebel hordes;
And I see the gleaming metal
 Of their tried and trusty swords.

But I am lying here, mother,
 Low upon my dying bed;
And the sun is sinking slowly—
 Mother, dearest! hold my head.

Press me to your bosom nearer,
 Hold me in your arms so tight,
Kiss me once more, my mother, dear,
 Bid your volunteer good night.

If my comrades ask you, mother,
 For the soldier true and tried,
Tell them, that in your arms, mother,
 He breathed his last and died.

Tell them, mother, on to victory;
 Tell them, free their much-loved land;
Tell them, I'll be waiting for them,
 'Mong the glorious, happy band.

Kiss me, mother; I am going!
 I know that Jesus now is near.
And gently, as the sun was setting,
 Died the brave young volunteer.