I seen his rim
De dew in de valley was all afire wid a sort o' a
ruby glim.
De blue coats lay in de tumbled grass—some
stirrin' but most o' 'em dead—
'Pon me word, de poor devils had bled so much,
de dew in de valley were red!
An' what d'ye t'ink? de nex' t'ing I knowed, a
lady had holt o' me hand,
An' smoothed de frills all out o' me face an' brushed