On the gory field of battle
You sweet voice will nerve my hand,
And when weary, sad or wounded
Your fair image near me stand.
In my visions, like some angel,
You will turn my grief to bliss;
On my pale and fevered forehead
I will often feel your kiss.
Our dear native land’s in danger
And we’ll calmly bide the time
Till this dreadful war is over,
And the bells of peace shall chime.
When this dreadful war is ended,
(Soon I hope the day will come,)
Love’s own star will lead my footsteps
Safely back to you and home.
Oh! what joy again to meet you
When the threat’ning storm is past,
And the flag our foes have planted
Flies in shreds upon the blast
Farewell! farewell! best and dearest,
Do not let your heart repine,
Though the sky may now look gloomy
Soon the sun will brightly shine.