human
Come, friend, give us a song.
gpt
I fear I can not please, he said;
human
The only songs I know Are those my mother used to sing For me long years ago.
gpt
Sing one of those, a rough voice cried.
human
There's none but true men here; To every mother's son of us A mother's songs are dear.
gpt
Am I a soldier of the Cross, A follower of the Lamb? And shall I fear to own His cause?
human
Thanks to you all, my friends; goodnight. God grant us sweet repose.
gpt
Sing us one more, the captain begged. The soldier bent his head, Then, glancing round, with smiling lips,
human
You'll join with me?
gpt
We'll sing that old familiar air Sweet as the bugle call, 'All hail the power of Jesus' name! Let angels prostrate fall.'