“Now ’twas mid-day when the strife began,
With steed to steed and man to man;
And clouds of dust that rolled on high,
Threw darkness o’er the earth and sky.
Each soldier on the other rushed,
And every blade with crimson blushed,
And valiant hearts were trod upon,
Like sand beneath the horse’s feet.
And when the warrior’s life was gone,
His mail became his winding sheet.”