I remember this old song from earliest childhood and can still see my Mother, born in 1905 in eastern Oklahoma, as she sat at the piano and sang the sad old song most of her life. I never knew whether it was a Civil War or WWI song and would be interested in knowing. There was no chorus to the song - each short stanza contained identical music, repeated over and over. Here are the words as I recall her singing them:

Twas late one autumn evening,
an old man feeble with age
wandered into this village,
from off a dusty stage

"Is this the express office?
I've come to meet my son
They tell me that the train is due
at this place half-past one"

"You've made a slight mistake, sir,
I wish for you to know,
This is an express office,
and not a train depot"

"You do not understand me, sir
the old man feebly said
He's coming as no passenger,
He's coming to me dead"

Just then a whistle pierced the air,
"The Express," someone cried,
And then with slow and trembling steps,
The old man passed outside

And then, a casket in a box
was lowered to the ground
It was a rough and noisy crowd
that quickly gathered round

"Don't handle the lid so roughly, boys,
It is our darling Jack
He went away as you boys did,
but you see how he's come back"

"He's broken his dear old Mother's heart,
and brought her warnings all true
She told him that he'd come back dead
when he joined those boys in blue"