I am standing on the summit
Of a century of years
That has measured the life of our nation,
And I sabered down the mountain
A flood of blood and tears
That was she'd for our country's salvation.
And I see a mighty legion, who for a nation's life
Would forfeit young manhood's fresh glory,
And I see a mighty legion who pitted in the strife
Now sleeping in garments stiff and gory.
And where going soon to meet them in the bivouac of the soul,
As the shadows around us give warning,
And I want to see my comrades when the angels call the Roll,
All are ready for inspection in the morning.
We where boys when we enlisted, and these wrinkled brows where clear,
And our eyes where not dimmed in their vision,
And the frost that never melts had not fallen on our hair,
And our step had not lost it's precision.
But the years have built their terraces on every comrades brow,
And age made our weary limbs quiver,
And the frost was falling thick and we landed ever quick
To the camp that is over the river.
And where going soon to meet them in the bivouac of the soul
As the shadows around us give warning,
And I want to see my comrades when the angels call the Roll,
All are ready for inspection in the morning.