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172 SONGS OF WAR AND PEACE
It was borne,
in battle; Oft it rested by the fountains; On the dusty march it fluttered, And it waved upon the mountains, From many a rugged crag. Now the stars,
of "Glory" In peace are grandly streaming, And mingled with the story, In freshest beauty beaming, Is the regimental flag.
'Twas the mornin' after Shiloh,
'Way down in Tennessee, I was cruisin' 'round among the woods—
A friend of mine and me, When I seed a little maiden
Who was settin' on a gun, That was busted at the muzzle
From the work that it had done.
She had throwed a bit of banner Acrost her golden head,