Ben King's Verse/De Bugle On De Hill

I doan like de noise ob de marchin' ob de boys, An' I 'low doan s'pose I evah will; Er de trampin' ob de feet to de drum's wild beat, Er de sound ob de bugle on de hill. Hit 'minds me ob de day when Gabe marched away En ole missus stood beside de cabin do'; Somepin' whispahed in my ear 'bout my little vol- unteer, An' said he nevah will come back no mo'.

I 'membah now de day jes' how he marched away, Wid de bright sun er climbin' up de sky, Marched out en down de street to de drum's wild beat, Den dey fotched him home to die. Oh, de sad en moanful way, po' old missus kneeled ter pray, When Gabe said: "Hit's gittin' mighty still." But I rise en jine de boys when I hear de cannon's     noise, Er de blowin' ob de bugle on de hill.

Hit 'pears es if I seen de ole plantation green, En sometimes I sho'ly think I hear De regiment pars by, en 'low I hear de cry En de moan ob my little volunteer. En I see de moanful way po' ole missus kneel to pray, En sometimes when all aroun' is still, I kin hear de tread ob feet to de drum's wild beat En de blowin' ob de bugle on de hill.

Dar's a spot mighty dear to dis ole darky here, Whar de sunlight is peepin' froo de palms, Wid his hands 'pon his breast, dar my soldier's gone to rest, Jes' peacefully er sleepin' in de calms. En de drum's wild beat er de tread ob marchin' feet No mo' kain't disturb 'im now until De Lord gibs command, den I know he'll rise en     stand At de sound ob de bugle on de hill.