Just before the battle, mother,
I am thinking most of you,
While upon the field we're watching
With the enemy in [bad word] brave are 'round me lying,
Filled with thoughts of home and God
For well they know that on the morrow,
Some will sleep beneath the sod. 
 [bad word] 
Farewell, mother, you may never
Press me to your breast again,
But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother,
If I'm numbered with the slain.

Additional Verses:
Oh, I long to see you, mother,
And the loving ones at home,
But I'll never leave our banner,
Till in honor I [bad word] 
Tell the traitors all around you
That their [bad word] words we know,
In every battle kill our soldiers
By the help they give the foe.

Hark! I hear the bugles sounding,
'Tis the signal for the fight,
Now, may God protect us, mother,
As He ever does the right.
Hear the "Battle-Cry of Freedom,"
How it swells upon the air,
Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard,
Or we'll perish nobly there.