On through the shadowy land they went.
“Names must be made and printed be!“
Hummed the blithe Colonel. “Doc, your flask!
Major, I drink to your good content.
My pipe is out—enough for me!
One’s buttons shine—does Mosby see?
“But what comes here?” A man from the front
Reported a tree athwart the road.
“Go round it, then; no time to bide;
All right—go on! Were one to stay