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BRAVE BOYS ARE THEY. Ml
Resting on grassy couches,
Pillowed on hillocks damp ; Of martial fare, how little we know,
Till brothers are in the camp.
Thinking no less of them,
Loving our country the more, We sent them forth to fight for the flag
Their fathers before them bore. Though the great tear-drops started,
This was our parting trust: God bless you, boys! we '11 welcome you home,
When Rebels are in the dust.
May the bright wings of love
Guard them wherever they roam; The time has come when brothers must fight,
And sisters must pray at home. Oh ! the dread field of battle !
Soon to be strown with graves ! If brothers fall, then bury them where Our banner in triumph waves. Brave boys are they ! Gone at their country's call; And yet, and yet we cannot forget That many brave boys must fall.