The Soldier’s Farewell.
Hark! 'tis the warning tap of drum,
That bids me to the war ranks come;
To me it is the parting knell.
Which bids me say — a long farewell!
Wife of my bosom, we must part.
And while I hold thee to my heart,
Oh! thou can'st judge my bosom's swell,-
Wife of my bosom, fare thee well!
Chief of my hopes, my first-born joy,
List to thy father's words, my boy!
Let my precepts thy young heart swell, —
Chief of my fond hopes, fare thee well!
Child of my pride, my own dear girl,
May innocence her flag unfurl;
And in thy breast may virtue dwell. —
Dear child of my pride, fare thee well!
Friends of my soul, who oft hath taught
The hours, as moments, to seem short, —
Remember him, who now must tell.
Friends of my soul, a long farewell!
Land of my birth, from thee I go,
To save thee from the coming foe,
Fame bids me do my duty well, —
Land of my kindred, fare thee well !
May 4, 1833