For such fine medicine good and strong,
Oft Mosby and his foresters long.
A charm of proof. “Ho, Major, come—
Pounce on yon men! Take half your troop,
Through the thickets wind—pray speedy be—
And gain their read. And, Captain Morn,
Picket these roads—all travelers stop;
The rest to the edge of this crest with me,
That Mosby and his scouts may see.”
Commanded and done. Ere the sun stood steep,