作曲 : M. B. Smith
 Come all ye valiant soldiers -- a story I will tell
 About the bloody battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
 It was an awful struggle and will cause your blood to chill;
 It was the famous battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
 'Twas on the sixth of April, just at the break of day;
 The drums and fifes were playing for us to march away.
 The feeling of that hour I do remember still,
 For the wounded and the dying that lay on Shiloh Hill.
 About the hour of sunrise the battle it began;
 Before the day had vanished, we fought 'em hand to hand.
 The horrors of that field did my heart with anguish fill
 For the wounded and the dying that lay on Shiloh Hill.
 The wounded men were crying for help from everywhere,
 While others who were dying were offering God their prayer,
 "Protect my wife and children if it is Thy holy will!"
 Such were the prayers I heard that night on bloody Shiloh Hill.
 And early the next morning we were called to arms again,
 Unmindful of the wounded and unmindful to the slain;
 The struggle was renewed again, and ten thousand men were killed;
 This was the second conflict of the famous Shiloh Hill.
 The battle it raged on, though dead and dying men
 Lay thick all o'er the ground, on the hill and on the glen;
 And from their deadly wounds, the blood ran like a rill;
 Such were the mournful sights that I saw on bloody Shiloh Hill.
 Before the day was ended, the battle ceased to roar,
 And thousands of brave soldiers had fell to rise no more;
 They left their vacant ranks for some other ones to fill,
 And now their mouldering bodies all lie on Shiloh Hill.
 And now my song is ended about those bloody plains;
 I hope the sight by mortal man may ne'er be seen again!
 But I pray to God, my Saviour, "If consistent with Thy will,
 To save the souls of all who fell on bloody Shiloh Hill."