when ye go to the torture to-night.
"We tackled too much; 'twas a desperate game—
I knowed we never could win it.
"Custer is dead—they're all of 'em dead an' I
shall be dead in a minute."
They're all of them down at the top of the ridge;
the sabre cross and 7
On many a breast, as it lies at rest, is turned to the
smoky heaven.
Three wounded men are up and away; they're