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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.

Farewell, mother, you may never,

press me to your breast 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.

Farewell, mother, you may never,

press me to your breast 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.

Farewell, mother, you may never,

press me to your breast again

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

if I'm numbered with the slain.