For the dear old Flag I die,
Said the wounded drummer boy;
Mother, press your lips to mine;
O, they bring me peace and joy!
'Tis the last time on earth
I shall ever see your face
Mother take me to your heart,
Let me die in your embrace.
For the dear old Flag I die,
Mother, dry your weeping eye;
For the honor of our land
And the dear old Flag I die,
Do not mourn, my mother, dear,
Every pang will soon be o'er;
For I hear the angel band
Calling from their starry shore;
Now I see their banners wave
In the light of perfect day,
though 'tis hard to part with you,
Yet I would not wish to stay.
For the dear old Flag I die,
Mother, dry your weeping eye;
For the honor of our land
And the dear old Flag I die.
Farewell mother, Death's cold hand
Weighs upon my spirit now,
And I feel his blighting breath
Fan my pallid cheek and brow.
Closer! closer! to your heart,
Let me feel that you are by,
While my sight is growing dim,
For the dear old Flag I die.
For the dear old Flag I die,
Mother, dry your weeping eye;
For the honor of our land
And the dear old Flag I die.
