(October, 1864) <br /> <br />Shoe the steed with silver <br />That bore him to the fray, <br />When he heard the guns at dawning- <br />Miles away; <br />When he heard them calling, calling- <br />Mount! nor stay: <br />Quick, or all is lost; <br />They've surprised and stormed the post. <br />They push your routed host- <br />Gallop! retrieve the day. <br /> <br />House the horse in ermine- <br />For the foam-flake blew <br />White through red October; <br />He thundered into view; <br />They cheered him in the looming, <br />Horseman and horse they knew. <br />The turn of the tide began, <br />The rally of bugles ran, <br />He swung his hat in the van; <br />The electric hoof-spark flew. <br /> <br />Wreathe the steed and lead him- <br />For the charge he led <br />Touched and turned the cypress <br />Into amaranths for the head <br />Of Philip, king of riders, <br />Who raised them from the dead <br />The camp (at dawning lost), <br />By eve, recovered-forced, <br />Rang with the laughter of the host <br />At belated Early fled. <br /> <br />Shroud the horse in sable- <br />For the mounds they heap! <br />There is firing in the Valley, <br />And yet no strife they keep; <br />It is the parting volley, <br />It is the pathos deep. <br />There is glory for the brave <br />Who lead, and nobly save, <br />But no knowledge in the grave <br />Where the nameless followers sleep.<br /><br />Herman Melville<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sheridan-at-cedar-creek/
