Dying with fever—dying at morn,
Just as the sun in the East had arisen;
Leaving his widow and orphans forlorn;
But “tell them I died with my trust still in Heaven.”
Dying unconscious—dying at noon,
Lo! his comrades are closing his eyes;
The work of the soldier forever is done,
But his spirit ascends to his God in the skies.
Dying at evening—dying alone,
Far, far away on the red field of strife,