O Fatal Sumter! What have you done?
Where have all the noble young men gone?
You have called your sons from the South
To bomb, to shoot, to burn and to fire!
You have asked your youths from the North
To use railroad and telegraph wire!
From the East, fought New Bern and Hatterras,
Far North in St. Albans, you rained terrors.
Marched to the South, the swamp of Olustee
Extended Far West, laid the arid Valverde
Are these your utmost boundaries?
Like the horror written in the soldiers' diaries?
O Island Sumter! Where is thy Sting?
Wiping out six hundred thousand, for nothing?
Or be it for Honor and Glory
To preserve the mighty Country
State Right, Freedom were the core,
Cleansed the drying blood forever more.
Four bloody years you had exhausted
Food, horses, men, guns and resource
Your appetite had them all consumed
Until no more could they sing their tune.
Hoisted your wind-blown tattered banner
On the old rocky Isle of Sumter!