歌词
A week before the battle of Bull Run, Sullivan Ballou, a major in the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteers, wrote home to his wife in Smithfield.
July 14, 1861. Washington DC
Dear Sarah: The indications are very strong
That we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow.
And lest I should not be able to write you again,
I feel impelled to write a few lines
That may fall under your eye
When I shall be no more …
I have no misgivings about,
Or lack of confidence
In the cause in which I am engaged,
And my courage does not halt or falter.
I know how American Civilization
Now leans on the triumph of the Government
And how great a debt we owe to those
Who went before us
Through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution.
And I am willing — perfectly willing —
To lay down all my joys in this life,
To help maintain this Government,
And to pay that debt …
Sarah, my love for you is deathless,
It seems to bind me with mighty cables
That nothing but Omnipotence could break;
And yet my love of Country
Comes over me like a strong wind
And bears me irresistibly
With all those chains to the battle field.
The memories of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you
Come crowding over me,
And I feel most deeply grateful to God
And to you
That I have enjoyed them for so long.
And how hard it is for me to give them up
And burn to ashes the hopes of future years,
When, God willing,
We might still have lived and loved together,
And seen our boys grown up，
To honorable manhood around us.
If I do not return,
My dear Sarah,
Never forget how much I loved you,
Nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield,
It will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults
And the many pains I have caused you.
How thoughtless,
How foolish I have sometimes been!
But, O Sarah!
If the dead can come back to this earth
And flit unseen around those they love,
I shall always be with you;
In the brightest day and the darkest night …
Always, always,
And when the soft breeze fans your cheek,
It shall be my breath,
When the cool air your throbbing temple,
It shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah do not mourn me dead;
Think I am gone
And wait for me,
For we shall meet again …
Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the First Battle of Bull Run.
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