The Soldier

I climbed the barren mountain,
 And my gaze swept far and wide
For the red-lit eaves of my father's home,
 And I fancied that he sighed:
    My son has gone for a soldier,
     For a soldier night and day;
    But my son is wise, and may yet return,
     When the drums have died away.


I climbed the grass-clad mountain,
 And my gaze swept far and wide
For the rosy lights of a little room,
 Where I thought my mother sighed:
    My boy has gone for a soldier,
     He sleeps not day and night;
    But my boy is wise, and may yet return,
     Though the dead lie far from sight.


I climbed the topmost summit,
 And my gaze swept far and wide
For the garden roof where my brother stood,
 And I fancied that he sighed:
    My brother serves as a soldier
     With his comrades night and day;
    But my brother is wise, and may yet return,
     Though the dead lie far away.

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