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MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA.
RING the good old bugle, boys! we'll sing another
songSing it with a spirit that will start the world alongSing it as we used to sing it fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.
Chorus.—“Hurrah ! Hurrah ! we bring the jubilee !
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! the flag that makes you
free!” So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea, While we were marching through Georgia.
How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful
sound! How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found ! How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
While we were marching through Georgia. -Chorus.
Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful
tears, When they saw the honor'd flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in
cheers, While we were marching through Georgia.-Chorus.
“Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the
coast!" So the saucy rebels said—and 't was a handsome boast, Had they not forgot, alas ! to reckon on a host,
While we were marching through Georgia.—Chorus.
So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train, Sixty miles in latitude-three hundred to the main ; Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
While we were marching through Georgia.-Chorus.
ES, we 'll rally round the flag, boys, we 'll rally once
again, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, We will rally from the hill-side, we 'll gather from the
plain, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
Chorus.—The Union forever, hurrah ! boys, hurrah,
Down with the traitor, up with the star,
We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, And we 'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen
more, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.—Chorus.
We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true, and
brave, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, And altho' they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.—Chorus.
So we ’re springing to the call from the East and from
the West, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, And we '11 hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the
best, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.—Chorus.
IN thinking, mother' dear, of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears they fill my eyes, Spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
Chorus.— Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,
Oh, cheer up, comrades, they will come,
the air again,
In the battle front we stood
When the fiercest charge they made,
But before we reached their lines