Must I die so soon? ah, far away
By blue Ohio's shore,
A little group waits patiently
Till this sad war is o'er;
A little face is often pressed
Against the window pane,
Oh, chaplain only tell me this
Shall I see my boy again?
Must I never press close to my heart
The rings of shining hair,
Or listen to my bright-eyed child
Whisper his evening prayer,
Shall I never hear his bounding step
Across the cottage floor?
It were not hard to die, chaplain,
Could I see my boy once more.
When morning broke with solemn tread
On old Potomac's banks,
His comrades laid the soldier down -
Discharged from the ranks,
But many a day o'er western hills,
By blue Ohio's shore,
A little boy will patient wait,
When this sad war is o'er.