Sherman’s March to the Sea

Samuel H. M. Byers (1838–1933)

[May 4 to December 21, 1864]

OUR camp-fires shone bright on the mountains

That frowned on the river below,

While we stood by our guns in the morning

And eagerly watched for the foe,

When a rider came out of the darkness

That hung over the mountain and tree,

And shouted, “Boys, up and be ready!

For Sherman will march to the sea.”

Then cheer upon cheer for bold Sherman

Went up from each valley and glen,

And the bugles re-echoed the music

That came from the lips of the men;

For we knew that the stars in our banner

More bright in their splendor would be,

And that blessings from Northland would greet us

When Sherman marched down to the sea.

Then forward, boys, forward to battle,

We marched on our wearisome way,

We stormed the wild hills of Resaca;

God bless those who fell on that day!

Then Kenesaw, dark in its glory,

Frowned down on the flag of the free,

But the East and the West bore our standards,

And Sherman marched on to the sea.

Still onward we pressed, till our banners

Swept out from Atlanta’s grim walls,

And the blood of the patriot dampened

The soil where the traitor flag falls;

Yet we paused not to weep for the fallen,

Who slept by each river and tree;

We twined them a wreath of the laurel

As Sherman marched down to the sea.

Oh! proud was our army that morning,

That stood where the pine darkly towers,

When Sherman said: “Boys, you are weary;

This day fair Savannah is ours!”

Then sang we a song for our chieftain,

That echoed o’er river and lea,

And the stars in our banner shone brighter

When Sherman marched down to the sea.