By LOUISE VON WETTER.
Sodger lad, O sodger lad,
The dawn will see ye marchin'--
The nicht drag's on--its dark is out
Wi' searchlichts, shiftin', archin'.
Sodger lad, O sodger lad,
D'ye mind our Summer meetin'?
And noo, ye'll gang. The heather's dead ...
I canna keep frae greetin'.
Sodger lad, my sodger lad--
D'ye mind, my time is nearin'?
Alone--alone--wi'out yer hand!
How shall I keep frae fearin'?
Sodger lad, O sodger lad,
Far, far awa' ye're goin'--
I'll not dare count the leagues an' days--
_Gude God! The cocks are crowin'!_
Sodger lad, my luve, my dear,
Awake! The morn is grayin'!
E'en tho' my heart drags, sick wi' dread,
I wouldna have ye stayin'.