[00:00.000] 作词 : Sullivan Ballou
[00:01.000] 作曲 : Phil Coulter
[00:53.256]July 14, 1861
[00:56.049]Washington, D. c
[01:00.715]Dear Sarah:
[01:03.501]Indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps tomorrow.
[01:09.878]Lest I should not be able to write you again,
[01:13.132]I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
[01:20.047]I have no misgivings about or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged,
[01:25.741]and my courage does not halt or falter.
[01:29.808]I know how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the revolution.
[01:37.625]And I am willing—
[01:38.685]perfectly willing–
[01:40.320]to lay down all my joys in this life to pay that debt.
[01:46.078]Sarah, my loves for you is deathless.
[01:51.100]It seems to me bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence could break.
[01:57.944]And yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly,with all these chains, to the battlefield.
[02:09.511]The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me,
[02:16.163]and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you that I have enjoyed them so long.
[02:24.311]And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years when,
[02:31.632]God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us……
[02:41.394]If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you,
[02:48.715]nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
[02:54.816]Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been.
[03:04.171]But, oh Sarah!
[03:06.205]If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love,
[03:12.713]I shall always be with you in the brightest days and in the darkest nights.
[03:17.187]Always. Always.
[03:20.034]And when the soft breeze fans your cheeks,it shall be my breath;
[03:24.982]and as the cool air fans your throbbing temple,it shall be my spirit passing by.
[03:31.597]Sarah, do not mourn me dead:
[03:35.490]think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.