Somebody's Darling, so young and so brave
Wearing yet on his pale sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,
The lingering light of his boy-hood's grace.
[2]
Matted and damp are the curls of gold,
Kissing the snow of that fair young brow,
Pale are the lips of delicate mould –
Somebody's Darling is dying now.
Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow
Brush all the wandering waves of gold :
Cross his hands in his bosom now –
Somebody's Darling is still and cold.
[3]
Kiss him once for Somebody's sake
Murmur a prayer soft and low,
One bright curl from its fair mates take, –
They were somebody's pride, you know;
Somebody's hand had rested there;
– Was it a mother's soft and white ?
And have the lips of a sister fair
Been baptized in the waves of light ?
[4]
God knows best – He had Somebody's love;
Somebody's heart enshrined him there;
Somebody's wafted his name above
Night and morn on the wings of prayer,
Somebody wept when he marched away,
Looking so handsome, brave, and grand;
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay,
Somebody clung to his parting hand.
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