Half revealed in the soft, misty air,
Runs a rude, broken way that will lead
Gallant rider and sure-footed steed
Westward forth to the camp of Bugeaud,
Forty miles over high land and low;
But the steed must be trusty and fleet,
And the bridle hand steady and keen
That shall guide him by rock and ravine,
Where each stride of the galloping feet
Must span dangers that slumber unseen;