Just before the battle, mother,
I am thinking most of you.
While upon the field we're watching
Comrades brave, around me lying
Filled with thoughts of home and God
Far well they know that on the morrow
Farewell, mother, you may never
Press me to your breast again
But, oh, my dear, you'll not forget me
I hear the bugle 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, how it swells up on the air
Oh, yes, we'll rally round the standard
Or we'll perish nobly there
