| From the bright sunny south to the war, I was sent,
|
| E’er the days of my boyhood, I scarcely had spent.
|
| From it’s cool shady forests and deep flowing streams,
|
| Ever fond in my mem’ry and sweet in my dreams.
|
| Oh, my dear little sister, I still see her tears.
|
| When I had to leave home in our tender years.
|
| And my sweet gentle mother, so dear to my heart,
|
| It grieved me sincerely when we had to part.
|
| Said my kind-hearted father as he took my hand:
|
| «As you go in defence of our dear native land,
|
| «Son, be brave but show mercy whenever you can.
|
| «Our hearts will be with you, 'til you 'turn again.»
|
| In my bag there’s a bible to show me the way,
|
| Through my twelfth year on earth and to Heaven some day.
|
| I will shoulder my musket and brandish my sword,
|
| In defence of this land and the word of the Lord. |