To
Clement B. Barclay 
of Philadelphia. 

The Soldier's Friend 
Is Inscribed by the Author 
As an humble tribute to his 
Unselfish Patriotism and Faithful Attentions to 
the Wants and Sufferings of our Brave Men in 
the Hospitals and on the Field of Battle.

"The Soldier's Friend" (26 Mar 1864)
Words by D. Brainerd Williamson
Music by John S. Cox

A few days after the battle of Williamsburg in May 1863, the 
auther witnessed the scene, upon which this song is founded, 
in the Hygeia Hospital at Fortress Monroe. It is one of
thousands almost similar, through which Mr. Barclay has 
passed close the Army of the Potomac first moved toward 
Richmond.  With that heroic army, his name is enlinked; and 
about its glorious achievemnets cluster his own unselfish 
and generous deeds of love, kindness and mercy to the sick, 
wounded and dying Soldiers of the Union.  Those who recovered, 
remember him with gratitude; and the prayers and benedicities 
of the mothers, sisters and wives of those who died attended 
by this faithful and noble-hearted citizen, and ornament to 
our race, will follow him and his with blessings forever.

Philadelphia: Lee & Walker, 722 Chesnut St.
Lithographer: Geo. F. Swain
[Sources: 090/011@Levy;
200000927@Loc/CWM]

1. He kneeled beside the soldier’s couch, 
And bent above his head. 
And to his lips the cool draught gave, 
And kindly words he said; 
He spoke of friends afar, and asked, 
“Dear boy, what can I do? 
Have you no word for those at home, 
Who love and think of you!” 
“O, yes, kind Sir, give them good bye! 
And take the wish I send, 
That on each day their hearts shall pray, 
God bless the soldier’s friend.”

2. And tell them now their boy fought well, 
And struck the traitors low, 
And then went down with mortal wound, 
And face towards the foe; 
And then, my friend, tell mother how, 
You found me dying here, 
Nor let me want for aught that might, 
My dying moments cheer, 
I know that she, and Mary too 
Whom God from ill defend 
Each passing day shall for you pray, 
God bless the soldier’s friend.

3. He smoothed the suffering boy’s brown hair, 
And read the sacred Psalm, 
And strove to make the dying hour 
An hour of holy calm. 
And when he closed those large blue eyes, 
I saw the good man weep, 
Such tears as hallow earth and make 
For death a sweeter sleep. 
And oft I hear that brave boy’s prayer 
To holy Heaven ascend, 
And know each day his lov’d ones pray, 
God bless the soldier’s friend.