War song of the Macon light Dragoons.1To horse! To horse! The standard flies!
The bugles sound the call!
Your glittering sabres quickly seize;
The voice of battle's on the breeze;
Arouse ye I one and all!
From Georgia's fertile plains we come,
A band of brothers true;
Our casques the leopard's spoil surround,
Our neighing chargers paw the ground,
We boast the red and blue.
And shall we bend the stubborn head,
In Freedom's temple born?
Dress our pale cheeks in timid smile,
To hail a master in our Isle,
Or brook a victor's scorn?
No! though destruction o'er the land
Come pouring as a flood,
The sun that sees our falling day
Shall mark our sabres' deadly sway,
And set that night in blood!
For gold let Scott's dull regions fight,
Or plunder's bloody gain,
Unbribed, unbought, our swords we draw
To guard our country and our law,
Nor shall their edge be vain.
And now, while breath of Northern gale
Still fans the tri-color,
And footsteps of invader rude,
With rapine foul and red with blood,
Pollute the happy shore.
Farewell, dear friends, and farewell homes,
Adieu each tender tie,
Resolved, we mingle in the tide,
Where charging squadrons furious ride
To conquer or to die!
To horse! To horse! Our sabres gleam,
High sounds the bugle's call,
Combined with honor's sacred tie,
Our word is law and liberty--
March forward, one and all!