“THE SOLDIERS”

 Who is it who has to go,

Through hail, and rain, and often snow,

And wade through rivers wide and deep,

And toil up mountains very steep,

                                                            “The Soldiers”         

 Who is it who stays in camp,

Be the weather clear r damp,

And stand on guard, through lonely night,

With nothing but the moon for light,

                                                            “The Soldiers”         

 Who is it who has to lie,

Upon the ground when wet or dry,

His head upon a log of wood,

Who is it so brave and good,

                                                            “The Soldiers”         

 Who is it who has to stand with sword,

Or musket in his hand,

With promptness to obey command,

And die if need for native land,

                                                            “The Soldiers”         

 Who is it compelled by law,

To meet the darkest storms of war,

And has his wood to cut or saw,

To eat his vituals done or raw,

                                                            “The Soldiers”         

 

Written by William Harmon Harden about 1864 while serving in the Confederate Army.

 

 

This web site last updated on  August 20, 2003.  Copyright February  2001 by Carl and Myra Jowers.

This descendant’s web site is a “Work In Progress.”  Many cybercousins have provided this information and it may not have been verified.  Please use this information as a guide in your research.  Please let us know of any errors or inaccuracies you may find.

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