Looking so handsome, brave, and grand;
Somebody’s kiss on his forehead lay,
Somebody clung to his parting hand.
Somebody’s waiting and watching for him,
Yearning to hold him again to the heart;
And there he lies with his blue eyes dim,
And the smiling, childlike lips apart.
Tenderly bury the fair young dead,
Pausing to drop on his grave a tear;
Carve on the wooden slab at his head,—