We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more
From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore
We leave our plows and workshops, our wives and children dear
With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear
We dare not look behind us but steadfastly before
We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more
We are coming, we are coming our union to restore
We are coming, Father Abraham with three hundred thousand more
We are coming, Father Abraham with three hundred thousand more
If you look across the hilltops that meet the northern sky
Long moving lines of rising dust your vision may descry
And now the wind, an instant, tears the cloudy veil aside
And floats aloft our spangled flag in glory and in pride
And bayonets in the sunlight gleam, and bands brave music pour
We are coming, father Abr'am, three hundred thousand more
We are coming, we are coming our union to restore
We are coming, Father Abraham with three hundred thousand more
We are coming, Father Abraham with three hundred thousand more