Annie Dear, Good Bye!
Copied by permission of Wm. Hall & Son, 543 Broadway, N. Y., owners of the copyright.
I’m leaning o’er the gate, Annie,
’Neath the cottage wall;
The grey dawn breaks, the hour grows late,
I hear the trumpet’s call.
I could not brook thy cheek so pale,
The sad tear in thine eye,—
This heart which laughs at war might quail,