His step now is short and not very strong, He uses a crutch to help him along, His heart is honest and his head is clear, He blossoms with love and brings you good cheer, For he’s a good soldier hobbling along. He has but one eye and that is quite weak, But thanks to his God his good tongue can speak, He stops to converse and rest him awhile, And meets an old friend who greets with a smile The gallant old soldier coming along. The little dogs bark when they see the crutch, For fear he will give them a gentle touch, The little boys laugh and he speaks no blame, But stops and helps them finish their game, For he’s a kind soldier coming along. The boys admire him and bring him a seat, And gather about to hear him repeat The stories of war in the field and camp, In the fort and trench, or on the long tramp, As the brave soldier was talking along. He tells them slowly how the battle begun, With rattle of muskets and booming gun, How the soldier’s hopes arose and then fell, As cheers were followed by bursting shell, As the old soldier was marching along. How the orders were given fast and thick, The first one to march, then the double quick; How the brave Colonel led into the fight, Where the battle was hot on left and right, As the old soldier was running along. How the boys in blue gave the rebels fits As they pop’d their heads out of rifle pits. And soon drove them behind their breastworks strong, Where they stood their ground bravely and long, And stop’d the old soldier coming along. How the cannons roared and the bullets hissed And many comrades from the ranks were missed; How the Captains shouted high and higher “Stand your ground, boys, load and fire, load and fire,” As the old soldier was fighting along. How just as the works of the rebels fell, His eye was ruined by a piece of shell, And just as the boys were scaling the wall, His leg was broken by a cannon ball, Broken and smashed by a cannon ball. How sad his thoughts as he lay on the ground, And felt he was dying from his death wound; But roused by the cheers for victory won, And sweet consolation for duty well done, The old hero is still coming along. How he thought as he lay a plan to contrive, To show his comrades he still was alive, And held up his cap with his musket high, So the boys could see it as they passed by, Poor suff’ring soldier not ready to die. How the boys soon came with an ambulance, And gathered him in by good luck and chance, For holding up his cap was taking his breath, And well they knew he was bleeding to death, The brave old soldier was bleeding to death.