He was just a blue eyed Boston boy
His voice was low with pain
I'll do your bidding comrade mine
If I ride back again
But if you ride on and I should fall
You'll do as much for me
Mother at home is awaiting the news
So write her tenderly
She is waiting at home like a patient saint
Her fond face pale with woe
Her heart will be broken when I am dead
I'll see her face no more
Just then the order came to charge
For a moment hand touched hand