The armies of the Union—
They’re going into camp,
The column slowly moving
With an ever ceaseless tramp;
And of those days of carnage
Each veteran bears the stamp,
As patriots tried and true,
They’re going into camp.
Ah! many are the years gone
Since to home they bade adieu,
And reached beneath the banner
Of the loyal and the true.
Methinks I see them moving
Into columns as they tramp,
With quick step, to the music –
They’re going into camp.
See them going into camp
At the nation’s call to arms
From city and the country –
From the factories and farms.
From mother (how she loved him),
On her cheeks the tears still damp,
Grieving for her soldier boy
Since he is going into camp.
See them on their weary march,
Plodding on from day to day;
And upon the battle field—
In thickest of the fray.
On a thousand battle fields,
And with Sherman, as they tramp,
All along the line, we find
They’re going into camp.
Look upon the silvery heads
Of our veteran volunteers!
Know ye not to them belongs
All the honors of those years,
When the awful charge they made,
And the fierce war-horse did champ
At his bridle flaked with blood?–
They were going into camp.
Can a nation soon forget
Those who heard the battle cry
When Columbia weeping stood?
Those who answered “here am I?”
Or begrudge a pension small
To her heroes as they tramp—
Veterans old and feeble—
They’re going into camp.
They’re going into camp!
Not the cheerless one of old.
A camp within that city
Where the streets are paved with gold!
The camp fire brightly burning
As the last brave boy shall tramp
Through the “gate that stands ajar”–
They’re going into camp.
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