Melody - George F. Root
1. Just before the Battle, Mother,|
I am thinking most of you,
While upon the field 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.
2. Oh, I long to see you, Mother,|
And the loving ones at home,
But I'll never leave our banner,
Till in honour I can come.
Tell the traitors, all around you,
That their cruel words we know,
In ev'ry battle kill our soldiers,
By the help they give the foe.
3. Hark! I hear the bugles sounding,
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