Cavalry Crossing a Ford


A LINE in long array, where they wind betwixt green islands;
They take a serpentine course-their arms flash in the sun-Hark to the musical
clank;
Behold the silvery river-in it the splashing horses, loitering, stop to drink;
Behold the brown-faced men-each group, each person, a picture-the negligent rest
on
the
saddles;
Some emerge on the opposite bank-others are just entering the ford-while,
Scarlet, and blue, and snowy white,
The guidon flags flutter gaily in the wind.


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Cavalry Crossing a Ford