Just before the battle, Mother,

I am thinking most of you

While upon the fields we're watching,

With the enemy in view



Comrades, brave, are round me lying

Filled with thoughts of home and God

For well they know that on the morrow

Some will sleep beneath the sod



Farewell, Mother, you may never

Press me to your heart again

But, oh, you'll not forget me, Mother

If I'm numbered with the slain



Hark, I hear the bugels sounding

'Tis the signal for the fight

Now may God protect us, Mother

As he ever does the right



Hear the battle cry of freedom

How it swells up in the air

Yes, we'll rally round the standard

Or we'll perish nobly there



Farewell, Mother, you may never

Press me to your heart again

But, oh, you'll not forget me, Mother

If I'm numbered with the slain