Our flag is unfurl'd, and our arms flash bright, As the sun wades up the sky; But ere I join the doubtful fight, Lovely maid, I would say \"Good bye\" I'm a young volunteer, and my heart is true To our flag that woos the wind, Then three cheers for that flag, and our southland too, And the girls we leave behind. Then adieu! then adieu! 'tis the last bugle's strain, This is falling on the ear; Should it so be decreed that we never meet again-- Oh, remember the Young Volunteer.
When over the desert, thru' burning rays, With a heavy heart I tread; Or when I breast the cannon's blaze, And bemoan my comrades dead, Then, then I will think of my home and you, And our flag shall kiss the wind; With huzza for our cause and our southland too, And the girls we leave behind. Then adieu! then adieu! 'tis the last bugle's strain, This is falling on the ear; Should it so be decreed that we never meet again-- Oh, remember the Young Volunteer.