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THE CHARGE BY THE FORD
by English, Thomas Dunn [1819-1902]

Eighty and nine with their captain
Rode on the enemy's track,
Rode in the gray of the morning:
Nine of the ninety came back.
Slow rose the mist from the river,
Lighter each moment the way:
Careless and tearless and fearless
Galloped they on to the fray.
Singing in tune, how the scabbards
Loud on the stirrup-irons rang,
Clinked as the men rose in saddle,
Fell as they sank with a clang.
What is it moves by the river,
Jaded and weary and weak,
Gray-backs—a cross on their banner—
Yonder the foe whom they seek.
Silence! They see not, they hear not,
Tarrying there by the marge:
Forward! Draw sabre! Trot! Gallop!
Charge!
like a hurricane,
charge!
Ah! 'twas a man-trap infernal—
Fire like the deep pit of hell!
Volley on volley to meet them,
Mixed with the gray rebel's yell.
Ninety had ridden to battle,
Tracing the enemy's track,—
Ninety had ridden to battle,
Nine of the ninety came back.
Honor the name of the ninety;
Honor the heroes who came
Scatheless from five hundred muskets,
Safe from the lead-bearing flame.
Eighty and one of the troopers
Lie on the field of the slain—
Lie on the red field of honor:
Honor the nine who remain!
Cold are the dead there, and gory,
There where their life-blood was spilt,
Back come the living, each sabre
Red from the point to the hilt.
[439]
Give them three cheers and a tiger!
Let the flags wave as they come!
Give them the blare of the trumpet!
Give them the roll of the drum!
Thomas Dunn English.

Source: Project Gutenberg

Source: Project Gutenberg