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作曲 : Derek Warfield |
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As Sunday dawns on Shiloh |
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From out the dark, gaunt Pines, |
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Bursts Sidney Johnson's vanguard, |
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On Grant's raw, battle lines. |
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The dread ravine re-echoes, |
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With crash and batteries roar |
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Their rebel yell high Peeling |
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With Hardee at the fore. |
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Back huddling on the river, |
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Swirls Sherman's crushed command, |
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And' cross the course of conquest, |
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Tom Sweeny takes his stand |
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He says we're here to die men |
| [00:38.659] |
While lit by sunset's glow, |
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His flag he points to heaven. |
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And his bayonets to the foe, |
| [00:45.325] |
He saves Grant's waning glory, |
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And Sherman's laurels too, |
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And Buell's rescue column, |
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Comes bristling in to view, |
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When swaying in the saddle, |
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He's slowly led away, |
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And Cheers rang out for "Fighting Tom" |
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The saviour of the day |
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Firm cheerful, keen and valiant, |
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He curbs his chaffing horse; |
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Amid his hard-pressed soldiers, |
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He stands an untold force. |
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His sword-arm sleeve hangs empty, |
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It tells them of his past; |
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This day they feel means victory, |
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Or it will be his last. |
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His lone left arm is wounded |
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Down drops his bridle rein; |
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His horse is pierced by bullets, |
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And he grimly mounts again. |
| [01:39.170] |
He says we're here to die men |
| [01:41.552] |
While lit by sunset's glow, |
| [01:43.788] |
His flag he points to heaven. |
| [01:45.934] |
And his bayonets to the foe, |
| [01:48.259] |
He saves Grant's waning glory, |
| [01:50.450] |
And Sherman's laurels too, |
| [01:52.738] |
While Buell's rescue column, |
| [01:54.599] |
Comes bristling in to view, |
| [01:57.256] |
When swaying in the saddle, |
| [01:59.542] |
He's slowly led away, |
| [02:01.691] |
While cheers rang out for "Fighting Tom" |
| [02:04.115] |
The saviour of the day |
| [02:06.233] |
For the honour of the army, |
| [02:08.570] |
Now rests with him to-day; |
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His men's true, steady volleys:, |
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Repel the lines of gray |
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Each mad assault grows stronger, |
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While his brave soldiers fall; |
| [02:19.703] |
Re-echoing his order |
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To clear loud, crisp bugle's call |
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'Bring 'up, bring up the colours |
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'Tis answered 'mid a cheer |
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His thin line rallies 'round him, |
| [02:30.907] |
With the colours in his rear. |
| [02:42.341] |
He says we're here to die men |
| [02:44.442] |
While lit by sunset's glow, |
| [02:46.725] |
His flag he points to heaven. |
| [02:48.820] |
And his bayonets to the foe, |
| [02:51.243] |
He saves Grant's waning glory, |
| [02:53.435] |
And Sherman's laurels too, |
| [02:55.672] |
And Buell's rescue column, |
| [02:57.768] |
Comes bristling in to view, |
| [03:00.277] |
When swaying in the saddle, |
| [03:02.466] |
He's slowly led away, |
| [03:04.668] |
And Cheers rang out for "Fighting Tom" |
| [03:07.090] |
The saviour of the day |
