I am mortally wounded see how my blood flows,
I am sinking to rest, my troubles are o’er.
I am thirsty, feel chilly and cold and must sleep,
Farewell my dear mother, please do not weep.
I see you yes ’tis you, I knew you would come,
Now take me dear mother again to our home.
As the last word was spoken he drew the last breath,
And no mother there to sooth him in death,
The poor homesick boy in battle did fall,
He had listened and answered to the last rollcall.