Softly, mournfully, without a quiver
The general’s words as a breeze:
“Let us cross over the river,
And rest under the shade of trees”
The general’s words as a breeze
From his mortally febrile lips:
“Let us rest under the shade of trees,”
As he fetched breath, away he slips
From his mortally febrile lips
The warrior\'s last command came
As he fetched breath, away he slips
It came from the soldier’s dying flame
The warrior\'s last command came
Summoning his troops to rest
It came from the soldier’s dying flame
A rebel soldier\'s plead to be blessed
Summoning his troops to rest
In the last minutes of his life
A rebel soldier\'s plead to be blessed
He bid farewell to his lovely wife
In the last minutes of his life
“Let us cross over the river …”
He bid farewell to his lovely wife
Softly, mournfully, without a quiver