As he howls in the moonlight,
Shrill is the sound of the war-cry—
Ogallalla! Ogallalla!
Lo! where the warriors, trailing their lances,
Sweep o’er the plain upon resistless steeds!
There, on the trail, vengeance is launching
Swift as the arrow upon the hated foe.
In their hearts the whispered war-cry—
In their hearts that wailing cry.
Low the sound of vengeance breathing.