The Captain's girl was pretty then
Before the time she'd just turned ten
When war was but a rumor when
Sweet Mary cried
The flow'rs had died
As winter came again.
 
And in those days sweet Mary played
With cotton frocks and rich brocade
Her friends and she would masquerade
And weave such stories
Of faerie joys
And princes on parade.
 
And in those days sweet Mary sat
Upon the field of flowers that
Grew bright and lovely on the mat
Of loam and dew
And dangers few
And softly she would chat
 
With not a man yet present there
But with the flowers, trees, the air
With God about such beauty rare
That He could bring
In Iris spring
That she might pick her share.
 
But time could not smile kindly
On this land of slave and free.
Brave Captain left in agony
To help the Gray
Win quick the day,
To separate the country.
 
Soon cannons pounded long and loud.
Great Jackson's smoke would overcloud
The land near Washington so proud.
The South should win,
The North give in,
Their wickedness avowed.
 
But was it ever quite so true
That would an army ever rue
Such easy victr'y as they drew
Upon that man?
No General can
Claim victr'y 'fore it's through.
 
And as the fight dragged slowly on
Mary stayed home whereupon
The war grew closer ev'ry dawn.
She'd kneel and pray
Her Daddy may
Stay home before too long.
 
And as the years marched slowly by
The Union men would occupy
The hills where Mary loved to lie.
The flow'rs bloomed still
As is God's will
To nature glorify.
 
And thus did Mary one late day
Walk on God's pile of sod and clay.
The Graymen came as just they may
To rout the Blue,
To break on through
Those Union boys, they say.
 
The Graymen came a company strong
Patrolling close that hill along
When soon to her they were upon.
The night was new.
A shot pierced through.
Sweet Mary's life was gone.
 
Around her corpse the fighting wound
As Blue and Gray each other found
Where soon became each battleground
As Mary dear
In her twelfth year
Lay cold on that cold ground.
 
And so the rooster red they say
Did trumpet near the break of day
To light the field where Mary lay.
Push back the night.
Her arms held tight
Sweet flowers as she lay.