Tis Old Stonewall the rebel who leans on his sword
And while we are mounting praise low to the Lord
Now each cavalier who loves Honor and Right
Let him follow the feather of Stuart tonight.

Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein
Come buckle your blanket and holster again
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade
For he must ride sure who goes riding a raid!

Now gallop, now gallop to swim or to ford
Old Stonewall's still watching, praise low to the Lord
Goodbye Dear Old Rebel, the river's not wide
And Maryland's lights in her windows to guide.

Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein
Come buckle your blanket and holster again
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade
For he must ride sure who goes riding a raid!

There's a man in the White House with blood on his mouth
There are knaves in the North, there are Braves in the South
We are three thousand horses and not one afraid
We are three thousand sabers and not a dull blade.

Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein
Come buckle your blanket and holster again
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade
For he must ride sure who goes riding a raid!