Year: 1870

soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,
There was lack of woman's nursing and dearth


of fwoman's tears,
But comrade stood beside him, while his life


blood ebbed away,
And bent with plying glances to hear what he


might say,
And said never more shall see my own my ma


tive land;
Take a message and token to some distant


friend of mine,
For was born at Bingen, fair Bingen on the


Rhine.
Tell my brothers and companions when they


meet and crowd around,
To hear my doIeful story in the pleasant vine


yard ground,
That we fought the battle bravely and when the


day was done,
Full many corpse lay CHASTITY pale beneath the


setting sun,
And mid the dead and dying were some grown
old in wars,
The death wound on their gallant breast the last


Of many scars,
And some were young, and suddenly beheld


Hfe's sun decline,
And one had come from Bingen, fair Bingen on


the Rhine.
Tell my mother that her other sons must comfort


her old age,


For, was, aye. truent bird who thought his
home cage,
For my father was a soldier, and even as 4 child
Ny heart leaped forth to hear him tell OF strug-


giles fierce and wild;
And when he died and left us to divide his scan


ty board,
let them take whate 'er they wO0ld and kept


my fathers sword;
And with boyish love hung it where the bright


light used to shine
On the cottage wall at Bingen, lov'd Blngen on


the Rhine.
Tell my sister not to weep for me, nor sob with


dropping head,
When the troops are marching home again
With glad ard gallant tread;
But TO look upon them proudly with a calm


and Steadfast eye;
For her brother was soldier, too, and not afraid


to die;


And ifa comrade ask her love, ask her in my
name
To listen to him kindly without regret or shame,
And to hang that old sword in its place, my


fathers sword and mine,
As an honor TO old Bingen, dear Bingcn on the


Rhine.
There is another, not sister, in the happy days


gone by;


You'd have known her by the merrlment that


sparkled in her eye;
Too innocent for coquetry too fond for idle scorn-


ing;


Ny friend, fear the lightst heart makes some


times heaviest mourning,
Tell her the last night Of my life, for e'er the


moon be risen,
My body will he out of pain, my soul be out OF


prison.
l dreamed stood with her, and saw the yellow


sunlight shine
On the vine clad hills of Bingeu, lov'd Bingen on
the Rhine.
saw the blue Rhine sweep along, heard, or


seemed to hear,
The German songs We used to sing in chorus
sweet and clear;
And down the pleasant river, and up the slant


ing hill,
The echong chorus sounded on the evening calm,
and still,
And her mild blue eye was on me as we passed
in friendly talk
Down many path beloved OF yore and well re-


membered walk;
And her little hand lay lightly, confdingly in
mine,
But We meet no more at Bingen, how'd Bingen Oh


the Rhine.
His voice grew faint and hoarse his grasp grew


childish weak
His eyes put on their dying look he sighed and


ceased to speak.
His comra1e bent to lift him, hut the spark OF


life had fed
The soldier of the Legion IN a foreign land was


dead
The pale moon rose up slowly, and calmly She
looked down
On the red sands of battle field with bloody


cOrpses strOwn,
Yea calmly on that dreadful scene her pale light
seemed to shine
1t shone on distant Bingen, fair Bingen on the
Rhine.