Classic Poem

I had a gallant comrade,
No better e'er was tried;
The drum beat loud to battle—
Beside me, to its rattle,
He marched, with equal stride.

A bullet flies towards us,
“Is that for me or thee?”
It struck him, passing o'er me;
I see his corse before me
As 'twere a part of me!

And still, while I am loading,
His outstretched hand I view;
“Not now—awhile we sever:
But, when we live for ever,
Be still my comrade true!”