It’s old man Brown’s. His heart clean broke

’Most as if he was women-folk.

He had five sons—his wife was dead—

Nothin’ could keep ’em to home, he said.

An’ every last one o’ that whole lot

Had to get shot!

Th’ old man hadn’t no grit, no pride—

Jest up and died!

Lay the evergreen softly down

Over the grave of old man Brown.