Fresh Yankee troops crossed over through the night,—
Buell’s troops, come down from Nashville way!
Grant sent them in and started up the fight
As soon as there was light, come break of day!
Then hell broke loose again across my farm,—
More frightened, screaming men came running back,
Coughing and bloody,—broke in leg or arm,—
And some with powder burns, completely black!
By afternoon, they said it was a rout,—
But no one followed far, that I could see!