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You say that in every battle
No soldier was braver than he,
As, aloft in the roar and the rattle,
He carried the flag of the Free:
I knew, ah! I knew he'd ne'er falter,
I could trust him, the dutiful boy:
My Robert was wilful,—but Walter,
Dear Walter, was ever a joy.
And if he was true to his mother,
Do you think he his trust would betray,
And give up his place to another,
Or turn from the danger away?
He knew while afar he was straying,
He felt in the think of the fight,
That at home his poor mother was praying
For him and the cause was the Right!
Tell me, comrade, who saw him when dying,
What he said, what he did, if you can;
On the field in his agony lying,
Did he suffer and die like a man?
Do you think he once wished he had never
Borne arms for the Right and the True?
Nay, he shouted Our country forever!
When he died he was praying for you!
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