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 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 will 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 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.
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.
