The Boy-Soldier.
Reading edition
By a Lady of Savannah.
He is acting o'er the battle, With his cap and feather gay, Singing out his soldier-prattle, In a mockish manly way-- With the boldest, bravest footstep, Treading firmly up and down, And his banner waving softly, O'er his boyish locks of brown.
And I sit beside him sewing, With a busy heart and hand, For the gallant soldiers going To the far-off battle land-- And I gaze upon my jewel, In his baby spirit bold, My little blue-eyed soldier, Just a second summer old.
Still a deep, deep well of feeling, In my mother's heart is stirred, And the tears come softly stealing At each imitative word! There's a struggle in my bosom, For I love my darling boy-- He's the gladness of my spirit, He's the sunlight of my joy! Yet I think upon my country, And my spirit groweth bold-- Oh! I wish my blue-eyed soldier Were but twenty summers old!
I would speed him to the battle-- I would arm him for the fight; I would give him to his country, For his country's wrong and right! I would nerve his hand with blessing From the "God of battles" won-- With His helmet and His armor, I would cover o'er my son.
Oh! I know there'd be a struggle, For I love my darling boy; He's the gladness of my spirit, He's the sunlight of my joy! Yet in thinking of my country, Oh! my spirit groweth bold, And I with my blue-eyed soldier Were but twenty summers old!