The adapted version of Shiloh Hill that most folks are familiar with, goes like this:
Come all you gallant soldiers, a story I will tell,
about the bloody battle on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
It was an awful struggle that caused your heart to chill,
all from the bloody battle on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
‘Twas on the sixth of April, about the break of day,
The drums and fifes were playing, for us to march away.
My feelings at that moment, I do remember still,
When first my feet were tromping on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
About the hour of sunrise, the battle first began,
Before the fight was over, we fought them hand-to-hand.
The horror of that battle, my heart with anguish fill,
the wounded and the dying on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
Early the next morning we fit to fight again,
unmindful of the wounded, un-useful to the slain.
The cannon smoke did hide the sun, ten thousand was a-killed,
and streams of blood went running on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
My uniform of blue was turned into a purplish red,
when someone on a foaming steed did strike me on the head.
I sent a bullet through his heart, and as he fell away,
I saw the face of my dear father, dressed in bloody gray.
We won the battle, but my heart will always be in pain.
The one who brought me to this world, I’ll never see again.
I pray to Christ my savior, consistent with his will,
God save the souls of them poor boys on top of Shiloh’s Hill.
