Cat. #1469 (MFH #25) - As sung by Bill Ping, Santa Rosa, California on September 20, 1972
VERSE 1
Come you gallant sons of Ioway
Come listen to my song
If you'll not but pay attention
I'll not detain you long
About th gallyant charge
That was made at Prairie Grove
As we an southern rebels
Unequaled numbers stroyed
VERSE 2
Thru fields of blood we waded
Was about to gain th day
Until ole Brown's artillery
Had then begun to play
Th cannon loud, did roar
An' put them all to flight
An' so they all retreated
In th dark hours of th night
VERSE 3
I was sorry, th next morning
To see th rebel's wives
A huntin' their dead husbands
With melencholy sight
Or sisters finding brothers
They wrung their hands and cried
O, my beloved brothers
Four southern right, you died
VERSE 4
An' now, this war is over
And soldiers rest from toil
Our comrades now lie buried
Beneath th southern soil
We laid them out in order
Just like on dress parade
And placed a flag at each man's head
To mark where he was laid