Just before the battle, Mother,   I am thinking most of you   While upon the fields 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      Hark, I hear the bugels 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 up in the air   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