Down from a thousand camps they pour

Over the ramparts like the whirlwind’s soar,

Sweeping like death down on the foes,

Like legions of arrows from legions of bows.

Brave spirits are leading the storming corps,

While the thunder of battle above them soars,

But onward they rush through the gates of hell,

And strike down the foe with a demon-like yell.

Fast at their heels brave Sheridan rides,

Bearing them down like merciless tides;

And they yield to the power of union and right,

And Lee and his army are ours tonight.

It cost many brave hearts the battle to win,

But the heroes that fought will ever live in

History’s pages and Poesy’s lays,

And millions unborn will honor and praise.