His mother she often tol' him, when she knew he
was goin' away,
That God would take care o' him, maybe, if he
didn't fergit to pray;
An' on the bloodiest battle-fields, when bullets
whizzed in the air,
An' Bill was a-fightin' desperit, he used to whisper
a prayer.
Oh, his comrades has often tol' me that Bill never
flinched a bit