51. cavalry song.
by Charles Godfrey Leland.
Weaponed well, to war we ride,With sabres ringing by our side,--
The warning knell of death to all
Who hold the holiest cause in thrall:
The sacred Right
Which grows to Might,
The day which dawns in blood-red light.
Weaponed well, to war we ride,
To conquer, tide what may betide,
For never yet beneath the sun
Was battle by the devil won:
For what to thee
Defeat may be,
Time makes a glorious victory.
Weaponed well, to war we ride--
Who braves the battle wins the bride;
Who dies the death for truth shall be
Alive in love eternally:
Though dead he lies,
Soft, starry eyes
Smile hope to him from purple skies.
Weaponed well, to war we ride--
Hurrah! for the surging thunder-tide,
When the cannon's roar makes all seem large
And the war-horse screams in the crashing charge,
And the rider strong
Whom he bears along
Is a death-dart shot at the yielding throng.
Weaponed well, to war we ride:
The ball is open, the hall is wide-
The sabre, as it quits the sheath,
And beams with the lurid light of death,
And the deadly glance
Of the glittering lance,
Are the taper-lights of the battle-dance.
Weaponed well, to war we ride--
Find your foemen on either side,
But woe to those who miss the time,
Where one false step is a deadly crime;
Who loses breath
In the dance of death,
Wins, nor wears, nor wants the wreath.
Weaponed well, to war we ride--
Our swords are keen, our cause is tried;
When the keen edge cuts and the blood runs free,
May we die in the hour of victory!
We feel no dread;
The battle-bed,
Where'er it be, has heaven o'erhead.
