"Mother[,] Come[,]
Your Boy Is Dying" (1864)

    Among the disabled brought from the Battle-field of the Wilderness, was a Lad
of Sixteen, mortally wounded in the head.  His name, and also that of his Regiment
were unknown, and the poor youth himself being delirious, no information respecting
his family could be obtained.  He was sinking fast, as as his strength was about fail-
ing him, he rallied, and looking longingly through the open doorway, murmured:—
“Mother come, your Boy is dying;” immediately after his spirit took its flight
to the unknown world.

Words by
John L. Ziebert.
Music by
Rudolph Wittig.

Philadelphia: WILLIAM R. SMITH, Agt.,
  No. 135 North Eighth Street, above Chery, east side.
[Source: 089/035@Levy]

1. Mother come, your boy is dying,
Death has mark’d him for his own,
Prostrate on a bed of anguish,
Hasten, ere his spirit’s gone.
Bravely has he faced each danger,
Batt’ling with his country’s foes,
Now he’s calling for his mother,
He would see her ere he dies.

CHORUS [sung after each VERSE]
Is that mother? Is that mother?
Come to see her darling die,
Is that mother, my dear mother
Come to bid her boy goodbye?

2. Mother dear, Oh do not linger,
Cruel death steals on apace,
I am waiting fir you, mother,
Once again to see your face,
If before you reach me, mother,
Death should close my eyes is  sleep,
Rest assured, I’ve done my duty,
’Twill console you while you weep.

3. Still he’s calling for his mother,
But his sight is failing now,
When a gentle woman near him,
Lays a soft hand on his brow,
Is that mother? ask’d the soldier,
Starting from his dying bed,
Round her form one arm entwining,
One embrace and he was dead.