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 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
141
THE DRAGOON TO HIS STEED.
[_]
SUGGESTED BY SEEING BLACK WARRIOR, THE HIGHLY PRIZED CHARGER OF MAJOR MERRILL, OF THE SECOND DRAGOONS OF THE U. S. ARMY.
Old war-steed, while combing
Thy dark-flowing mane,
In thought I am roaming
Through fields of the slain:
Brave comrades are leaping
To saddle once more,
And follow me, steeping
Their sabres in gore:—
Through squares, formed of steel, that are shattered like glass,
Outspeeding the rush of the whirlwind, we pass.
Thy dark-flowing mane,
In thought I am roaming
Through fields of the slain:
Brave comrades are leaping
To saddle once more,
And follow me, steeping
Their sabres in gore:—
Through squares, formed of steel, that are shattered like glass,
Outspeeding the rush of the whirlwind, we pass.
Through wastes, hot and sterile,
Swamps, dismal and dread,
Companion in peril!
How oft have we sped:
Though night, dark and dreary,
Her curtain had drawn,
Thy limbs never weary
Would hurry me on;
And back the grim scar that is trenching thy neck
Brings a terrible vision of carnage and wreck.
Swamps, dismal and dread,
Companion in peril!
How oft have we sped:
Though night, dark and dreary,
Her curtain had drawn,
Thy limbs never weary
Would hurry me on;
And back the grim scar that is trenching thy neck
Brings a terrible vision of carnage and wreck.
A host is defending
Molino del Rey,
And clouds are ascending
To curtain the day.
Friends drop, torn asunder
By chain-shot and shell,
The hill-shaking thunder
Of cannon their knell;
But on press survivors, while guarded by walls
Foes check their advance with a tempest of balls.
Molino del Rey,
And clouds are ascending
To curtain the day.
Friends drop, torn asunder
By chain-shot and shell,
142
Of cannon their knell;
But on press survivors, while guarded by walls
Foes check their advance with a tempest of balls.
Loud yells of derision
Prove vain the attack—
Like waves from collision
With rocks, they fall back:—
Chill horror is goading
The brave to despair,
And black mines exploding
Hurl corpses through air;
But, true to their colors, they rally and form—
Though man cannot live, and confront such a storm.
Prove vain the attack—
Like waves from collision
With rocks, they fall back:—
Chill horror is goading
The brave to despair,
And black mines exploding
Hurl corpses through air;
But, true to their colors, they rally and form—
Though man cannot live, and confront such a storm.
Lo! lancers in motion,
Rank bristling on rank,
Rush like waves of the ocean,
To charge us in flank;
But signal to meet them
Our bugleman blows,
And long sabres greet them
With skull-cleaving blows:
Horse and rider go down that fierce onslaught before,
And thousands are flying to rally no more.
Rank bristling on rank,
Rush like waves of the ocean,
To charge us in flank;
But signal to meet them
Our bugleman blows,
And long sabres greet them
With skull-cleaving blows:
Horse and rider go down that fierce onslaught before,
And thousands are flying to rally no more.
Companion in danger!
Though now growing old,
For thee would the stranger
In vain offer gold.
The trumpet will cheer not,
My courage decay—
That morn when I hear not
Thy welcoming neigh;
For never was cavalier seen on the back
Of steed that could rival my own gallant Black.
Though now growing old,
For thee would the stranger
In vain offer gold.
The trumpet will cheer not,
My courage decay—
That morn when I hear not
Thy welcoming neigh;
For never was cavalier seen on the back
Of steed that could rival my own gallant Black.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |