When first my feet were treading on the top of Shiloh Hill.
There were men from every nation lying on those bloody plains,
Fathers, sons and brothers were numbered with the slain,
That has caused so many homes, with deep mourning to be filled,
All from the bloody battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
Early the next morning we were called to arms again,
Unmindful of the wounded, unmindful of the slain;
We fought them full nine hours before the strife was o’er,
And the like of dead and wounded I never saw before.
Our army reinforced, we made a desperate stand,