JUST AFTER THE BATTLE.
Still upon the field of battle
I am lying, mother dear.
With my wounded comrades, waiting
For the morning to appear.
Many sleep to waken never
in this world of strife and death;
And many more are faintly calling,
With their feeble dying breath.
Mother dear, your boy is wounded.
And the night is drear with pain;
But still I feel that I shall see you
And the dear old home again.
Oh: the first great charge was fearful.
And a thousand brave men fell.
Still, amid the dreadful carnage.
I was safe from shot and shell;
So. amid the fatal shower,
I had nearly passed the day.
When, here, the dreaded Minnie struck me.
And I sunk amid the fray!-Chorus.
Oh! the glorious cheer of triumph
When the foemen turned and fled,
Leaving us the field of battle
Strewn with dying and with dead.
Oh! the torture and the anguish
That I could not follow on;
But, here amid my fallen comrades,
I must wait till morning's dawn.-Chorus.