American Old Time Song Lyrics: 28 Along The Kansas Line

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 28

ALONG- THE KANSAS LINE.
As sung by J. C. Helms, of Denver, Col.

A soldier from Missouri, in early manhood's prime,
Lay with the dead and dying in a Mississippi clime;
'Twas on the field of Corinth his life was ebbing fast,
His comrades, faint and weary, in crowds were hurrying past.

A comrade slopped beside him, and raised his drooping head,
And then, in faltering accents, the wounded soldier said:
Farewell, my darling comrade, a long and last adieu,
Though shortly you may follow me, I'll ne'er return to you.

With me this war is over, my marching at an end,
And still a dying message by you I feign would send -
Oh, bear it to those kindred, those distant friends of mine,
For I have both friends and kindred along the Kansas line.

I have an aged mother-you know that mother well-
Oh. bear to her these tidings how I in battle fell;
Tell her that I remember, in anguish, her advice
To stay at home in quiet, And not join the rebel Price.

And had I then but heeded the good advice she gave,
I need not now been hastening to fill a rebel's grave;
But I heeded other counsel, and left that home of mine-
That home of peace and comfort along the Kansas line.

You know my brothers also; tell them the mournful tale- I
And when in death I'm sleeping they will my late bewail;
They know the things that drove me away from that home.
And the phantom light that lured me through Dixie's land to roam.

Tell those wealthy neighbors, who preached secession loud.
And counseled me and others to swell the rebel crowd,
That though they now are loyal, their own dear lives to save,
'Twas them that sent me surely to fill a rebel's grave.

Although I have forgiven them. I'd have them not forget
That but for them I might have been at home with mother yet;
And although I lie far distant, this mangled form of mine
Will haunt their dreaming slumbers along the Kansas line.

There Is a dark-eyed beauty, I need not call her name.
Who swerved me from my duty, and fanned the rebel flame;
Her words I well remember-no hand will mine write-
Unless I find it bold-ly defending Southern rights.

Those Southern rights, alas! my friends, I knew not what they were,
But you and others following the fleeting phantom's glare,
I sacrificed my judgment at beauty's magic shrine,
And joined the rebel regiment along the Kansas line.

And ere this war is over-so foolishly begun-
Many a thousand youths, misguided, will do as I have done;
Many a thousand doating mothers will be bereft like mine,
And many a home made desolate along the Kansas Hue.

Our land is dark with mourning, all draped in weeds of woe.
And wailing notes of sorrow- are heard from high And low;
And many's the home made desolate, with fire And sword combined.
To make a howling wilderness along the Kansas line.

And now his reason failing, the soldier ceased to speak;
While on the field of battle, where Greek had met the Greek,
His life was made an offering unto the god of wars.
Whose victims bled by thousands, alas! alas! what for?