The Cross-Tree

"Doctor, doctor, a little of your love

And a little of your skill,

I can no longer sight my gun,

No longer can I kill."

"Soldier, soldier, I cannot find the cause

And I will not set you free,

But take this pill and go your way

To your own company."

"Chaplain, chaplain, a little of your love

And a little of your grace,

I can no longer think my thoughts

Nor bear the demon's face."

"My son, my son, I cannot find the cause

. And I will not set you free,

But take this book :and go your way

To your own company."

"Captain, captain, a little of your love

And likewise of your loyalty,

I can no longer land at dawn

Nor ride the troopship sea."

"Soldier, soldier, I cannot find the cause

And I will not set you free

But take this leave and go your way

To your own company."

With doctor's pill and chaplain's book

And captain's furlough free,

The soldier went and hanged himself

On a Signal Corps cross-tree.

O soldier, soldier, where now are your eyes

That once so much did see?

The vultures have plucked them from his face

Just over our company.