Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/200

192 They pass the picket by the pine

And hollow log—a lonesome place;

His horse adroop, and pistol clean;

'Tis cocked—kept leveled toward the wood;

Strained vigilance ages his childish face.

Since midnight has that stripling been

Peering for Mosby through the green.

Splashing they cross the freshet-flood,

And up the muddy bank they strain;

A horse at the spectral white-ash shies—

One of the span of the ambulance,

Black as a hearse. They give the rein:

Silent speed on a scout were wise,

Could cunning baffle Mosby's spies.

Rumor had come that a band was lodged

In green retreats of hills that peer

By Aldie (famed for the swordless charge&#91;22&#93;).

Much store they'd heaped of captured arms

And, peradventure, pilfered cheer;

For Mosby's lads oft hearts enlarge

In revelry by some gorge's marge.