The trumpet calls, and I must go
To meet the vile, invading foe;
But listen, dearest, ere we part--
Thou hast, thou hast the soldier's heart!
It could not be so true to thee
Were it not true to liberty;
Far rather fill a soldier's grave
Than live a dastard and a slave!
Thine eyes shall light dark danger's path,
The gloomy camp, the foeman's wrath;
Above the battle's fiery storm,
I shall behold thy beauteous form!
With thoughts of thee, for thy dear sake,
Redoubled efforts I will make;
And strike with an avenging hand
For lady-love and native land!
Then fare thee well, the trumpet's sound
Commands me to the battle ground;
But listen, dearest, ere we part--
Thou hast, thou hast the soldier's heart.