I’ll do your bidding comrade mine, If I ride back again

But if you ride back and I am dead, you’ll do as much for me

My mother you know must hear the news, so write to her tenderly

She’s praying at home like a waiting saint, her fond face pale with woe

Her heart will be broken when I am gone, I’ll see her soon I know

Just then the order came to charge, for men stood hand shook hands

They answered aye then on they rode that brave and devoted band

Straight was the course to the top of the hill, and the rebels did shot and shell

Plowed furrows of death in the toiling ranks, and guarded them as they fell

There soon was a horrible dying yell, from heights they could not gain

And those that doom and death had spared, rode slowly back again

But among the dead that were left on the field, was the boy with the curly hair

The tall dark man, who fought by his side, lay dead beside him there

There were none to write to the blue eyed girl, the words her lover had said

While mother at home is waiting her boy, she’ll only know he’s dead