Dear mother, I remember well The parting kiss you gave me, When merry rang the village bell-- My heart was full of joy and glee: I did not dream that one short year, Would crush the hopes that soared so high! Oh, mother dear, draw near to me; Dear mother, I've come home to die. CHORUS.--Call sister, brother, to my side, And take your soldier's last good-by. Oh, mother dear, draw near to me; Dear mother, I've come home to die. Hark! Mother, 'tis the village bell, I can no longer with thee stay; My country calls to arms! to arms! The foe advance in fierce array! The vision's past--I feel that now, For country I can only sigh. Oh, mother dear, draw near to me: Dear mother, I've come home to die. CHORUS. Dear mother, sister, brother, all, One parting kiss--to all good-by: Weep not, but clasp your hand in mine, And let me like a soldier die! I've met the foe upon the field, Where hosts contending scorned to fly; I fought for right--God bless you all-- Dear mother, I've come home to die. CHORUS. POLK. By H. L. FLASH. A flash from the edge of a hostile trench, A puff of smoke, a roar, Whose echo shall roll from Kennesaw hills, To the farthermost Christian shore, Proclaim to the world that the warrior-priest Will battle for right no more. And that for a cause which is sanctified, By the blood of martyrs unknown-- A cause for which they gave their lives, And for which he gave his own-- He kneels, a meek ambassador, At the foot of the Father's throne. [Illustration: "A flash from the edge of a hostile trench."] And up to the courts of another world, That angels alone have trod, He lives away from the din and strife Of this blood-besprinkled sod-- Crowned with the amaranthine wreath, That is worn by the blest of God. THE REBEL'S DREAM. By A. F. LEOVY. Music by CH. REISNER. Permission of A. E. BLACKMAR, New Orleans. Softly in dreams of repose, A vision so pure and so sweet, Shines on a soldier's sad soul, While his flag lies so low at his feet; Softly an angel is seen, Who saddens the spot with a sigh, Swiftly the banner is raised, And borne to bright realms in the sky. Soft music from heavenly choirs, Resounds from that paradise shore. Oh! how sweet to the dreamer's light heart, He sees his brave comrades once more. His banner now floats o'er the blest, And shimmers in heaven's pure air; A voice from its folds is now heard, Jackson prays for the flag that is there.