valley is lined with gray,
And between the armies of North and South are
blossoming fields of May.
There's a mighty cheer in the Southern host as,
led by the fife and drum,
To the front of the lines with a fearless tread our
baby cadets have come.
"Forward!" The air is quaking now; a shrill-
voiced, angry yell
Answers the roar of the musketry and the scream