Come all you gallant soldiers a story I will tell,
About the bloody battle on top Shiloh's Hill.
It was an awful struggle that would cause your heart to chill;
All from the battle on top Shiloh's Hill.
'Twas on the sixth of April, about the break of day;
The drums and fifes were playing for us to march away.
My feelings at that moment I do remember still,
When first my feet were tromping on top of Shiloh's Hill.
About the hour of sunrise the battle first began;
Before the fight was over, we fought 'em hand to hand.
The horrors of the battle did my soul with anguish fill
The wounded and the dying on top of Shiloh's Hill.
Early upon next morning we fit the fight again,
Unmindful of the wounded and unuseful to the slain;
The cannon smoke did hide the sun, ten thousand was the kill;
And streams of blood went running on top of Shiloh's Hill.
My uniform of blue was turned into a purplish red,
When someone on a foaming stead, did strike me on the head;
I sent a bullet through his heart and as he fell away,
I saw the face of my dear father dressed in bloody gray.
We won the battle but my heart will always be in pain,
The one who brought me to this world, I'll never see again;
I pray to Christ my Saviour consistant with his will,
God save the souls of them poor boys on top of Shiloh's Hill.