CHAPTER VII.
UNDER THE OPAL FLAG.
Marching away; joyous and gay,
Rank upon rank with a splendid display,
Leaving the city at breaking of day.
Riding along, gallant and strong,
Round us the populace tearfully throng,
Greeting our going with patriot's song.
Under our feet, flower-buds sweet;
Tread we in marching through plaza and street,
Never our kinsfolk again may we meet.