By troops, by knots, by three and by two,
Come riderless horses, to signal true.
For horses and riders both know the “Recall,”
And the trumpet-blast it is summoning all.
And over three hundred came back that day,
With empty saddles from that fierce fray.
Over three hundred! How bloody the fight
That emptied so many saddles that night!
Over three hundred! The struggle was sore:
One man had fallen out of every four.