For the Dear Old Flag I Die |
George Cooper, 1863
For the dear old Flag I die, Said the wounded drummer boy; Mother, press your lips to mine; O, they bring me peace and joy! 'Tis the last time on the earth I shall ever see yourface, Mother take me to your heart, Let me die in your embrace. Chorus: For the dear old Flag I die, Mother, dry your weeping eye; For the honor of our land And the dear old Flag I die. | 2. Do not mourn, my mother, dear, Every pang will soon be o'er; For I hear the angel band Calling from their starry shore; Now I see their banners wave In the light of perfect day, though 'tis hard to part with you, Yet I would not wish to stay. Chorus:
3. Farewell mother, Death's cold hand |