He sleeps, 'the little general' sleeps,
With all the great before him;
Another son Virginia weeps,
Proud that 'twas she who bore him.

Away from home, far, far away,
He crossed life's utmost barrier;
Subdued, but still without dismay
He comes, our gentle warrior.

He fell not, 'twas his cause that fell,
Upon the field of glory.
He lived, that living he might tell
His country's gallant story.

With heroes he was wont to share
The trial and the peril;
With them to do, with them to dare,
With them shall be his burial.

He rests, the tired soldier rests,
Upon the field of battle,
Recalling deeds of dauntless breasts
And scenes of boyish prattle.

He sleeps, 'the little General' sleeps,
With all the great before him;
Virginia now her vigil keeps,
Proud that 'twas she who bore him.