From opposite sides
of the valley,
in straight rows
marching, the
brave lads came on,
flags unfurled and
fluttering, as bugles
and drums did sound,

The cannons roared
and smoke did shroud
the grassy killing field,

The boys cut down like
summer wheat in heaps
upon the ground.

Their Uniforms of Blue or
Grey becoming all the same,
turned to crimson Red upon
that lurid blood soaked field.