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Months passed, and war's thunders rolled over the land, Unsheathed was the sword and lighted the brand; We heard in the distance the noise of the fray, And prayed for our boy in the jacket of gray. Ah ! vain all—all vain were our prayers and our tears The glad shout of victory rang in our ears; But our treasured one on the cold battle-field lay, While the life blood oozed out on the jacket of gray.
His young comrades found him and tenderly bore His cold, lifeless form to his home by the shore ; Oh! dark were our hearts on that terrible day, When we saw our dead boy in the jacket of gray. Ah! spotted, and tattered, and stained now with gore, Was the garment which once he so gracefully wore; We bitterly wept as we took it away, And replaced with death's white robes, the jacket of gray.
We laid him to rest in his cold, narrow bed,
And graved on the marble, we placed o'er his head,
As the proudest of tributes our sad hearts could pay,
"He never disgraced the dear jacket of gray."
Then fold it up carefully, laj^ it aside,
Tenderly touch it, look on it with pride;
For dear must it be to our hearts evermore,
The jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore.