All you Southerners now draw near,
 Unto my story approach you here,
 Each loyal Southerner's heart to cheer,
 With the victory gained at Shiloh.
 O it was on April of sixteenth day,
 In spite of a long and muddy way,
 We landed safe at Corinth Bay
 All on our route to Shiloh,
 That night we lay on the cold ground,
 No tents nor shelters could we find;
 And in the rain we almost drowned
 All on our way to Shiloh.
 Next morning a burning sun did rise
 Beneath the eastern cloudless sky,
 And General Beauregard replied:
 "Prepare to march to Shiloh."
 And when our Shiloh hove in view,
 It would the bravest hearts subdue
 To see the Yankee mighty crew
 That held the works at Shiloh.
 For they were strongly fortified
 With batteries on the river-side.
 Our generals viewed the plains and cried:
 "We'll get hot work at Shiloh."
 And when those batteries strove to gain,
 The balls fell around us thick as rain,
 And many a hero there was slain,
 Upon the plains of Shiloh.
 The thirty-third and the Zouaves,
 They charged the the batteries and gave three cheers,
 And General Beauregard rang the airs '
 With Southern steel at Shiloh.
 Their guns and knapsacks they threw down,
 They ran like hares before the hounds.
 The Yankee Dutch could not withstand
 The Southern charge at Shiloh.
 Now many a pretty maid did mourn
 A lover who'll no more return;
 The cruel war has from her torn;
 His body lies at Shiloh.