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The Dying Soldier

[ Roud 1223 ; G/D 1:110 ; trad.]

Bob and John Copper sang The Dying Soldier in 1971 on their Leader Records box set A Song for Every Season.

Archer Goode of Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, sang A British Soldier’s Grave in 1975 to Mike Yates. This recording was included in 2004 on the Musical Tradition anthology The Birds Upon the Tree. Rod Stradling commented:

Roy Palmer has traced a broadside of this song to the printer F. Jones, of 55, Lamaert Street, Sheffield, who was working at the address during the period 1894-98. The song could, of course, predate this period. As ever, Britain was fighting in various parts of the Empire at that time and there are plenty of battlefields that could have provided the inspiration for the song. Gavin Greig seems to have been the only collector to note down the song, and there are two versions in his collection.

Lyrics

Bob and John Copper sing The Dying Soldier

The battle it was over and the stars did brightly shine,
The moon shone o’er the dying and the dead.
And not a sound was heard, save the scream of some wild bird
As it fluttered round the dying soldier’s head.
And on that spot there lay one who’d nobly fought that day,
His comrade true to him was standing near.
And with an anguished sigh to his comrade gently cried
And with his hand he wiped away a tear.

Chorus (after each verse):
Then he whispered “Goodbye” to his comrade so dear,
His head upon his knapsack gently laid.
“If you live to get home you can tell them I am gone,
I’m lying in a British solder’s grave.”

“Oh don’t you remember that dear old oak tree,
With my knife I cut my name out in the bark.
And early in the morn I have reaped the golden corn
And listened to the warbling of the lark.
That dear old shady spot it shall never be forgot
For ’twas there I used to meet the girl I love.
Tell her not to cry for I’ll meet her bye and bye
In a bright and a better land above.

“Tell my aged mother that she’s not to weep for me
For in the battle I took a noble part.
Break it gently to her all the news my comrade dear,
I feel that it will almost break her heart.
Tell my sister too I have kept the gift so dear
In parting which she fondly gave to me.
Although I still possess it I have stained with my life’s blood
This dear locket was a parting gift to me.

“I feel that I am dying and my breath is going fast,
Just raise me up once more that I might see.
The moon that give us light and the watch-fires burning bright
And my comrades as happy as can be.
There now goodbye,“ he cried, he then fell back and died,
Beloved by all so noble and so brave.
And early the next day he beneath the turf did lay
In a rude but a British soldier’s grave.

Archer Goode sings A British Soldier’s Grave

The battle was over; the stars were shining bright,
The moon shone o’er the dying and the dead.
None could be heard, save the screams of the wild birds
As they fluttered round that dying soldier’s head.

In his suit there lay one who’d nobly fought the day
And true to him, his comrade standing by.
As he in anguish cried, his comrade gently sighed,
And with his hand he wiped away a tear.

He whispered “Goodbye” to his comrades so dear.
With his head upon his knapsack, gently lay.
“If you live to get home, you can tell them I am gone
And I’m lying in a British soldier’s grave.

“Don’t you remember that dear old oak tree?
With my knife I cut my name out in the bark.
And early in the morn when I reap the golden corn
And listen to the warbling of the lark.

“And that dear old country spot that will never be forgot
For that was where I used to meet the girl I loved.
Tell her not to cry, for I will meet her bye and bye
In that beautiful and happy land above.

“Tell my darling mother not to wait for me,
For in the battle I nobly took a part.
Break the news to her gently, my comrade.” he cried
“For I’m sure it will almost break her heart.

“Tell my only sister that I’ve kept this gift so rare,
That on parting she fondly gave to me.
Although now caressing, ’tis stained with my life’s blood,
Dear comrade, this locket I’ll give thee.”

He whispered “Goodbye” to his comrades so dear.
With his head upon his knapsack, gently lay.
“If you live to get home, you can tell them I am gone
And I’m lying in a British soldier’s grave.

“I feel that I am dying, my breath is going fast,
Raise me up dear comrade that I may see
The moon that gives us light and the watch-fires burning bright,
And our comrades as happy as can be.”

Then he heaved a sigh, and then fell back and died
Loved by all with hearts so gentle and so brave.
And at the break of day his corpse they gently laid
In a crude, but, a British soldier’s grave.