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  • My brave lad, he sleeps in his faded coat of blue: In his lonely grave, unknown, lies the heart that beat so true; He sank, faint and hungry, among the famished brave, And they laid him, sad and lonely, within his nameless grave. CHORUS. No more the bugle calls the weary one: Rest, noble spirit, in thy grave unknown; I shall find you and know you among the good and true, Where a robe of white is given for the faded coat of blue. He cried: "Give me water and just one little crumb, And my mother, she will bless you through all the years to come; Oh! tell my sweet sister, so gentle, good and true, That I'll meet her up in Heaven in my faded coat of blue!" No more the bugle calls, &c. "Oh! he said, my dear comrades, you cannot take me home, But you'll mark my grave for mother; she will find it if she comes, I fear she will not know me among the good and true, When a robe of white is given for the faded coat of blue." No more the bugle calls, &c. No dear one was by him to close his sweet blue eyes, And no gentle one was nigh him to give him sweet replies. No stone marks the sod o'er my lad so brave and true, In his lonely grave he sleeps, in his faded coat of blue. No more the bugle calls, &c.