And striking his spurs with a terrible oath,
He dashed down the line ’mid a storm of huzzahs,
And the wave of retreat checked its course there,
Because the sight of the master compelled it to pause,
With foam and with dust the black charger was grey:
By the flash of his eye, and his red nostril’s play,
He seemed to the whole great army to say,
“I have brought you Sheridan, all the way
From Winchester down to save the day!”
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Sheridan!