Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/198

190 The sun is gold, and the world is green,

Opal the vapors of morning roll;

The champing horses lightly prance—

Full of caprice, and the riders too

Curving in many a caricole.

But marshaled soon, by fours advance—

Mosby had checked that airy dance.

By the hospital-tent the cripples stand—

Bandage, and crutch, and cane, and sling,

And palely eye the brave array;

The froth of the cup is gone for them

(Caw! caw! the crows through the blueness wing);

Yet these were late as bold, as gay;

But Mosby—a clip, and grass is hay.

How strong they feel on their horses free,

Tingles the tendoned thigh with life;

Their cavalry-jackets make boys of all—

With golden breasts like the oriole;

The chat, the jest, and laugh are rife.

But word is passed from the front—a call

For order; the wood is Mosby's hall.