Standard (EADGBE)

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.

Chorus

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.

Oh, I long to see you, mother,

And the loving ones at home,

But I'll never leave our banner,

Till in honor I can come.

Tell the traitors all around you

That their cruel words we know,

In every battle kill our soldiers

By the help they give the foe.

Chorus

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 bugles 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 upon the air,

Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard,

Or we'll perish nobly there.

Chorus

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.