When Battle's music greets our ears,
Our guns are sighted at the foe―
Then nerve the arm, and banish fears,
Charge Comrades, touch the elbow!
Chorus―
Touch the elbow, then, my boys!
Comrades, touch the elbow―
Nerve the arm, and banish fears,
Charge? Comrades, touch the elbow!
For country, home, the patriot's fire,
Kindle our souls with fervid glow―
And Southern traitors shall retire
When Northmen touch the elbow!
Chorus.
A cannon-ball may plough the ranks,
And through us strike a deadly blow―
Fill up the space the ball made blank,
Charge! Comrades, touch the elbow!
Chorus.
Though many a brave man bite the sod,
And crimson heart-blood freely flow,
Shout, as their spirits soar to God,
Charge! Comrades, touch the elbow!
Chorus
"Now show the rocks of which you're made;
Charge!" the General cries―"Hallo!
"Double the quickstep, First Brigade!
"Charge! Comrades, touch the elbow!"
Chorus.