Remember—‘I pray the Lord my soul to take!’
My musket thou’lt carry back to my little brother
For my dear sake!
“Attention, company! Reverse arms! Very well, men; my thanks.
Where am I? Do I wander, comrade,—wander again?—
Parade is over. Company E, break ranks! break ranks!
I know it is the pain.
“Give me thy strong hand; fain would I cling, comrade to thee;
I feel a chill air blown from a far-off shore;
My sight revives; Death stands and looks at me.