The Girls At Home

When the daylight fades on the tented field,
And the campfire cheerfully burns,
Then the Soldier's thought, like a carrier dove,
To his own love home returns;
Like a carrier dove -- a carrier dove,
And gleams beyond the foam,
So a light springs up in the Soldier's heart,
As he thinks of the Girls at Home.

When the shadows dance on the canvas walls,
And the camp with melody rings,
'Tis the good old song of the Stars and Stripes,
That the fireside circle sings;
Of the Stars and Stripes -- the Stars and Stripes --
For love of which they roam;
But the final song and the sweetest one,
Is the song of the Girls at Home.

Now the silver rays of a setting moon,
Thru' the lofty sycamores creep,
And the fires burn low, and the sentries watch
O'er the arm-ed host a-sleep;
And the sentries watch -- the sentries watch --
Till morning gilds the dome;
Till the rattling drum shall the sleepers rouse
From the dream of the Girls at Home.

by Henry Clay Work

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