A soldier on the battle field,
Received a mortal wound,
And many hours among the slain,
Lay bleeding on the ground.
The battle o’er, his comrades came,
And carried him away;
But they had not proceeded far,
When he was heard to say:
“You need not farther carry me,
My end is drawing near,
I feel that life is ebbing fast,
Pray, let me lie down here.”
They laid him down at his request,
And left him there to die,
But ere life’s pulse had ceased to beat,
An officer came by.
Who aid the soldier kindly ask,
“Is there ought I can do?”
Gasping for breath, he faintly said,
“Nothing I want, thank you.”
“Shall I some drink for you procure?”
“Oh no,” he said again,
“Nothing I need, for Death ere long
Will ease me of my pain.”
The officer then once more ask’d,
Shall I write home for you,
And tell your friends, upon the field
You died a soldier truer
“I have no friends,” he then replied,
“No one who cares for me.
If you will grant me one request,
I shall, most thankful be.
“A Testament which I’ve long prized
in my knapsack you’ll find;
Kindly get it, and read a verse
Which oft has cheer’d my mind,
‘Tis in the fourteenth of St. John,
Though many times before
The verse I’ve read, I have a wish
To hear it read once more.
“You’ll find it almost near the end,
‘Tis one that speaks of Peace;
Read it at once, for very soon
My beating pulse will cease.”
At his request the verse he read,
“My peace I leave with you,
Not such as by the world is given,
My peace I give to you.”
“Your heart let it not troubled be,
Nor let it be afraid ;”
Then, with a smiling countenance,
The dying soldier said:
“I thank you for your kindness, Sir,
The Saviour’s promised peace
I now enjoy, and shall ere long
Behold His smiling face.”
“God is with me, I want no more,’’
Were the last words he said;
Then instantly his eyelids closed,—
His soul from earth had fled.
ML 09/11/1904