“Dragoons! I know you’ll follow me. Ride steady, men! Draw swords!”
The trumpet sounded: off[491] we dashed, at first with steady pace,
But growing swifter as we went. Oh, ’twas a gallant race!
Three-fourths the ground was left behind: the loud and thrilling “Charge!”
Rang out; but fairly frantic now, we needed not to urge
With voice or rein our gallant steeds, or touch their foaming flanks,
They seemed to fly. Now straight in front[492] appeared the kneeling ranks.
Above them waved[493] a standard broad: we saw their rifles raised—
A moment more, with awful crash, the deadly volley blazed.
The bullets whistled through our ranks, and many a trooper fell;