Through yonder wood. The man here—Cuff—
Says they are going to Leesburg town”
The Colonel’s eye took in the group;
The veiled one’s hand he spied—enough!
Not Mosby’s. Spite the gown’s poor stuff,
Off went his hat: “Lady, fear not;
We soldiers do what we deplore—
I must detain you till we march”
The stranger nodded. Nettled now,
He grew politer than before:—