With deep, wide ditch and parapets,
     And shells and cannon ball,
And guns and powder magazines,
     The Union cause must fall.

Our boys in blue espied this fort
     And its destructive power;
Knew our own "Blue wing" had been robbed
     By rebels behind this tower.

The transports, with their many brave,
     Landed our tried and true.
The gun boats, on the river side,
     Filed in with boys in blue.

They battered 'gainst its great, strong wall
     From both sides of the fort,
While regiments of infantry
     Fall in with dread report.

The 96th were in this fray,
     And, sad it is to tell,
With all their glorious victory
     Was many a sad farewell.

For many who hailed that Sabbath morn,
     And welcomed its sweet light,
Were cold and still in death before
     The shadows of the night.

A flag of truce was seen 'ere long;
     Before the day was done
The first great battle, many fought,
     Ended with victory won.

In fort, the mangled, torn and dead;
     Outside, our heroes slain;
While over all this doom and strife
     The stars and stripes remain.

Great was the spoil, and great the gain,
     To Union cause that day;
While, carefully and tenderly,
     They bear their dead away.

Demolished, then, these massive walls;
     And prisoners, dressed in gray,
Laid down their arms, with down-cast eyes,
     And silent moved away.

And gentle moonbeams' silver light,
     With stars look pitying down,
Will never leave, quite lonely now,
     These honored, little mounds.

While raindrops weep our tears of love,
     Sweet birds sing our refrain,
Shall noble deeds of soldier boys
     Forever more remain.

Softly tread, this ground is holy,
     Hallowed by our patriot dead;
O'er these graves, so green and lowly,
     Nature's floral tributes spread.

Silent, now, is street and workshop;
     Silent, factory and mill;
All the busy marts of business
     Stand deserted, closed, and still.
Busy only, hands of children,
     Gathering blossoms of the May -
Binding into cross and garlands -
     Nature's off'rings, for this day.

Softly tread, this ground is holy,
     Hallowed by our patriot dead;
O'er these graves, so green and lowly,
     Nature's floral tributes spread.

See that little band of veterans -
     War-worn remnants of that band -
Who, at once, at country's peril,
     Sprang to save, at her command.
Feeble, though, have grown their footsteps,
     Eyes all dim, and locks turned gray,
Yearly, fall they not to honor,
     Fallen comrads, on this day.

Softly tread, this ground is holy,
     Hallowed by our patriot dead;
O'er these graves, so green and lowly,
     Nature's floral tributes spread.

Weary marches, nearly ended;
     Soon they'll sleep beneath the clay;
Dust with dust of comrades blended
     Dawns for them Memorial Day.
Eyes, now dim, again will brighten,
     Weary feet renew their pace,
And above, in glad reuion,
     They'll meet comrades face to face.

Softly tread, this ground is holy,
     Hallowed by our patriot dead;
O'er these graves, so green and lowly,
     Nature's choicest tributes spread.

Scenes, long past, come flitting fast
     O'er memory's magic mirror,
And, half-forgotten face grow
     Upon us, nearer, dearer.
We see, again, the weeping friends
     As they, with tears, resigned us -
We see, again, those absent boys -
     The boys we left behind us.

We hear old songs - they're ringing still
     In memory, clear as ever -
That echoes backward from the hill
     To our camp, beside the river.
Privations, we in common shared,
     Still closer seems to bind us;
The dangers we, together, dared
     Will the boys we left behind us.

With joyous hearts we marched away -
     From off the field of battle -
When war's fierce lightnings ceased to play,
     And hushed was the musket's rattle.
Our homeward march, friends strewed with flowers;
     Bright laurel wreaths they twined us,
But still we sigh for those boys of ours -
     The boys we left behind us.

Upon each year's Memorial Day
     We'll meet where some lie sleeping;
Sweet flowers of May, on their graves we'll lay,
     And leave them to God's keeping.
Sorrow alloys our social joys,
     And rising tears will blind us
At thoughts of those poor absent boys -
     The boys we left behind us.