"For the dear old Flag I die," 
Said the wounded drummer boy; 
"Mother, press your lips to mine; 
O, they bring me peace and joy! 

'Tis the last time on the earth 
I shall ever see your face, 
Mother, take me to your heart, 
Let me die in your embrace. 

Chorus: 
For the dear old Flag I die, 
Mother, dry your weeping eye; 
For the honor of our land 
And the dear old Flag I die. 

Do not mourn, my mother dear, 
Every pang will soon be o'er; 
For I hear the angel band 
Calling from their starry shore; 

Now I see their banners wave 
In the light of perfect day, 
Though 'tis hard to part with you, 
Yet I would not wish to stay. 

Farewell mother, Death's cold hand 
Weights upon my spirit now, 
And I feel his blighting breath 
Fan my pallid cheek and brow. 

Closer! closer! to your heart, 
Let me feel that you are by, 
While my sight is growing dim, 
For the dear old Flag I die.