There's a happy time coming when the boys come home;
There's a glorious time coming when the boys come home;
  We will end the dreadful story
  Of this treason dark and gory
  In a sunburst of glory,
    When the boys come home.

The day will seem brighter when the boys come home,
And our hearts will be lighter when the boys come home;
  Wives and sweethearts will press them
  In their arms and caress them,
  And pray God to bless them,
    When the boys come home.

The thin ranks will be proudest when the boys come home,
And our cheer will ring the loudest when the boys come home.
  The full ranks will be shattered,
  And the bright arms will be battered,
  And the battle-standards tattered,
    When the boys come home.

The bayonets may be rusty when the boys come home,
And their uniforms be dusty when the boys come home.
  But all shall see the traces
  Of the battle's royal graces,
  In the brown and bearded faces,
    When the boys come home.

Our love shall go to meet them when the boys come home,
To bless them and to greet them when the boys come home;
  And the fame of their endeavor
  Time and change shall not dissever
  From the nation's heart forever,
    When the boys come home.