E'er the days of my boyhood, I scarcely had spent.
From it's cool shady forests and deep flowing streams,
Ever fond in my mem'ry and sweet in my dreams.
Oh, my dear little sister, I still see her tears.
When I had to leave home in our tender years.
And my sweet gentle mother, so dear to my heart,
It grieved me sincerely when we had to part.
Said my kind-hearted father as he took my hand:
"As you go in defence of our dear native land,
"Son, be brave but show mercy whenever you can.
"Our hearts will be with you, 'til you 'turn again."
In my bag there's a bible to show me the way,
Through my twelfth year on earth and to Heaven some day.
I will shoulder my musket and brandish my sword,
In defence of this land and the word of the Lord.
