CHORUS—On, on, on, the world is marching!
On to regions grand and vast;
But we offer up a song
As she wheels her souls along,
To the brave and valiant heroes of the past,
Where we live in ease today They were wearing life away, Doing battle with privation, want, and toil; Chopping down the sturdy trees, Leaving acres such as these, Where the gold lies almost shining in the soil. Cho.
Now those hands which labored best Have been crossed in well-earned rest, Nerer more to ache with weariness or wound, Save that now and then we meet One whose head is white with sleet Left a hero on his former battle ground. —Cho.
Let us keep their memory green, Through the days that lie between Sad good-byes and glad good-mornings over there; Laying by crape's mourning weeds, Let us tell their noble deeds, Writ on pages to their memory white and fair. Cho.
