When Napoleon was flying
From the field of Waterloo,
A British soldier dying
To his brother bade adieu!
“And take,” he said, “this token
To the maid that owns my faith,
With the words that I have spoken
In affection’s latest breath.”
Sore mourned the brother’s heart,
When the youth beside him fell;
But the trumpet warned to part,
And they took a sad farewell.
There was many a friend to lose him,
For that gallant soldier sighed;
But the maiden of his bosom
Wept when all their tears were dried.