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SOLDIER SONGS
'Twixt cloud and cloud o'er the pallid moon
From the nether dark they glide And the grasses sigh as they rustle by
Their phantom steeds astride. By four and four as they rode of yore
And well they know the way; The dim trail, the grim trail,
The trail of toil and fray.
With tattered guidons spectral thin
Above their swaying ranks, With carbines swung and sabres slung
And the gray dust on their flanks. They march again as they marched it then
When the red men dogged their track, The gloom trail, the doom trail,
The trail they came not back.
They pass, like a flutter of drifting fog,
As the hostile tribes have passed, As the wild-wing'd birds and the bison herds
And the unfenced prairies vast, And those who gain by their strife and pain
Forget, in the land they won, The red trail, the dead trail,
The trail of duty done.
But to him who loves heroic deeds
The far-flung path still bides, The bullet sings and the war-whoop rings
And the stalwart trooper rides. For they were the sort from Snelling Fort
Who traveled fearlessly The bold trail, the old trail,
The trail to Laramie, |
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