He was just a blue-eyed Boston boyHis voice was low with painI'll do your bidding, comrade mineIf you ride back againBut if you ride back and I am deadJust do as much for meMother, you know, must hear the newsPlease write to her tenderlyShe's waiting at home like a patient saintHer fond face pale with woeHer heart will break when I am goneI'll see her soon, I knowJust then the order came to chargeFor an instance hand touched handThey said, "Aye," and away they went and rodeThat brave and devoted bandStraight was the course to the top of the hillThe rebels they shot and shelledPlowed furrows of death through the toiling ranksAnd guarded them as they fellThere soon came a horrible dying yellFrom heights they could not gainAnd those who doom and death had sparedRode slowly down againBut among the dead that were left on the hillWas the boy with the curly hairThe tall dark man who fought by his sideLay dead beside him thereThere was no one to write to the blue-eyed girlThe words her lover had saidMother, you know, must hear the newsShe'll only know he's dead
