Half a mile, half a mile,
    Half a mile onward,
  Right through the Georgia troops
    Broke the two hundred.
  "Forward the Mule Brigade!
    Charge for the Rebs," they neighed.
  Straight for the Georgia troops
    Broke the two hundred.

  "Forward the Mule Brigade!"
    Was there a mule dismayed?
  Not when their long ears felt
    All their ropes sundered.
  Theirs not to make reply,
  Theirs not to reason why,
  Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
  On! to the Georgia troops
    Broke the two hundred.

  Mules to the right of them,
  Mules to the left of them,
  Mules behind them
    Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
  Breaking their own confines
  Breaking through Longstreet's lines
  Into the Georgia troops
    Stormed the two hundred.

  Wild all their eyes did glare,
  Whisked all their tails in air
  Scattering the chivalry there,
    While all the world wondered.
  Not a mule back bestraddled,
  Yet how they all skedaddled  --  
  Fled every Georgian,
  Unsabred, unsaddled,
    Scattered and sundered!
  How they were routed there
    By the two hundred!

  Mules to the right of them,
  Mules to the left of them,
  Mules behind them
    Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
  Followed by hoof and head
  Full many a hero fled,
  Fain in the last ditch dead,
  Back from an ass's jaw
  All that was left of them, --
    Left by the two hundred.

  When can their glory fade?
  Oh, what a wild charge they made!
    All the world wondered.
  Honor the charge they made!
  Honor the Mule Brigade,
    Long-eared two hundred!