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Come, all ye sons of Iowa,
Come listen to my song.
If you'll but pay attention,
I won't detain you long
'Twas of the gallant charges
At the battle of Prairie Grove,
And we with Southern rebels
In unequal numbers strove.
Although they outnumbered us,
We charged them up the hill,
Our captain with good honor;
He led us with good will.
And volley after volley,
We made our shots to tell.
'Till Our brave lieutenant
And general they fell.
Through fields of blood we waded;
Was about to gain the day
Untill a lots of artillery
At them began to play.
The cannons loudly roar
And put them all to flight,
They all have to retreat
By the dead hours of the night
How sorry we was next morning
To see those Rebels' wives
A-hunting their dead husbands
With a many a solemn cry
And sisters finding brothers
Would wring their hands and cry
Says, "Oh dear bloody brothers,
For Southern rights you've died!"
And now this battle's over;
And people rest from toil.
We'll bury our dead heroes
Beneath the Southern soil.
We'll bury them in honor,
While on our dress parade,
And place a board at each man's head
To show where he was laid.
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