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RIDING WITH KILPATRICK
by Scollard, Clinton [1860- ]

Dawn peered through the pines as we dashed at the ford;
Afar the grim guns of the infantry roared;
There were miles yet of dangerous pathway to pass,
And Mosby might menace, and Stuart might mass;
But we mocked every doubt, laughing danger to scorn,
As we quaffed with a shout from the wine of the morn.
Those who rode with Kilpatrick to valor were born!
How we chafed at delay! How we itched to be on!
How we yearned for the fray where the battle-reek shone!
It was
forward
, not
halt
, stirred the fire in our veins,
When our horses' feet beat to the click of the reins;
It was
charge
, not
retreat
, we were wonted to hear;
It was
charge
, not
retreat
, that was sweet to the ear;
Those who rode with Kilpatrick had never felt fear!
At last the word came, and troop tossed it to troop;
Two squadrons deployed with a falcon-like swoop;
While swiftly the others in echelons formed,
For there, just ahead, was the line to be stormed.
The trumpets rang out; there were guidons a-blow;
The white summer sun set our sabres a-glow;
Those who rode with Kilpatrick charged straight at the foe!
We swept like a whirlwind; we closed; at the shock
The sky seemed to reel and the earth seemed to rock;
Steel clashed upon steel with a deafening sound,
While a redder than rose-stain encrimsoned the ground;
If we gave back a space from the fierce pit of hell,
We were rallied again by a voice like a bell.
Those who rode with Kilpatrick rode valiantly well!
Rang sternly his orders from out of the wrack:
Re-form there, New Yorkers! You, "Harris Light," back!
Come on, men of Maine! We will conquer or fall!
Now, forward, boys, forward! and follow me all!
A Bayard in boldness, a Sidney in grace,
A lion to lead and a stag-hound to chase—
Those who rode with Kilpatrick looked Death in the face!
Though brave were our foemen, they faltered and fled;
Yet that was no marvel when such as he led!
Long ago, long ago, was that desperate day!
Long ago, long ago, strove the Blue and the Gray!
Praise God that the red sun of battle is set!
That our hand-clasp is loyal and loving—and yet,
Those who rode with Kilpatrick can never forget!
Clinton Scollard.

Source: Project Gutenberg

Source: Project Gutenberg