Civil War Songs

 

The Battle Cry of Freedom
by George Frederick Root (1825-1895)

Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
We will rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.
CHORUS:
The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitor and up with the star;
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.
We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.
We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave, Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And altho' they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West, Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.


* * * * * * * * * *  

Just Before the Battle, Mother

by George Frederick Root (1825-1895)

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 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.
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.


MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA
Words and Music by Henry Clay Work

Bring the good ol' Bugle boys! We'll sing another song,
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it like we used to sing it fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia

Chorus:
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the Jubilee.
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free,
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
While we were marching through Georgia.

How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound,
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found,
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
While we were marching through Georgia.

Chorus

Yes and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Georgia.

Chorus

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never make the coast!"
So the saucy rebels said and 'twas a handsome boast
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the Host
While we were marching through Georgia.

Chorus

So we made a thoroughfare for freedom and her train,
Sixty miles of latitude, three hundred to the main;
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain
While we were marching through Georgia.

Chorus

 

GOOBER PEAS
by A. Pindar

Sittin' by the roadside on a summer's day,
Chattin' with my messmates, passing time away,
Lying in the shadows, underneath the trees --
Goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas!

CHORUS:Peas! Peas! Peas! Peas! Eating goober peas!
Goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas!

When a horseman passes, the soldiers have a rule
To cry out at their loudest "Mister, here's your mule!"
But still another pleasure enchantinger than these
Is wearing out your grinders, eating goober peas!

CHORUS

Just before the battle, the General hears a row;
He says "The Yanks are coming, I hear their rifles now"!
He turns around in wonder, and what do you think he sees?
The Georgia Militia, eating goober peas!

CHORUS

I think my song had lasted almost long enough!
The subject's interesting, but rhymes are mighty rough!
I wish this war was over, when free from rags and fleas,
We'd kiss our wives and sweethearts and goble goober peas!

CHORUS

 

HERE'S YOUR MULE
Words and music by C.D. Benson

A Farmer came to camp one day,
With milk and eggs to sell,
Upon a mule who oft would stray,
To where no one could tell.
The Farmer, tired of his tramp,
For hours was made the fool,
By everyone he met in camp,
With "Mister, here's your mule."

CHORUS: Come on, come on,
Come on, old man,
And don't be made a fool,
By everyone you meet in camp,
With "Mister, here's your mule."

His eggs and chickens all were gone
Before the break of day,
The "Mule" was heard of all along,
That's what the soldiers say.
And still he hunted all day long,
Alas! the witless fool,
Whil'st every man would sing the song
Of "Mister, here's your mule."

CHORUS

The soldiers ran in laughing mood,
On mischief were intent;
They lifted "Muley" on their back,
Around from tent to tent.
Thro' this hole, and that, they push'd
His head, -- And made a rule,
To shout with humerous voices all,
I say" "Mister, here's your mule!"

CHORUS

Alas! one day the mule was miss'd,
Ah! who could tell his fate?
The Farmer like a man bereft,
Search'd early and search'd late,
And as he pass'd from camp to camp
With stricken face -- the fool
Cried out to everyone he met,
Oh! "Mister, where's my Mule."

CHORUS

 

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