, 1876-08-19
Lines on the last Ride Of Custer.
From The Puget Sou"d Weekly A,yn@,

And ere the run DER the Hills called Black,
In rising along it, accustomed track
ad flooded the plain with its wanton ray
Hi, cavalry buglcs began 70 play
TO hOrsc''--"tO horse" and aloud there
rang
The clnking Of carbinc and sabre clang,
a, his gallant troop 50 light and free,
Flower ofal our chyalry,
Prompt to obey their leaders call,
Spring into their saddles, one and all
And their wclltmined chargers, tall and fine,
Ncighing and Clampng, wheel into line,
with not a man in all that host
From he VINO hundred sears could boast
To the bearllcss youth, who the buglc wound,
But worshped their chief, and would glad
have found
Death IN its cruccst form, or blcd,
To save one hair Of their chieftan's head.
Then as the bright sun shimmering shone
Der the rippling waves of the Yellow Stone
And bathed in II sea Of gold the fonnt
Ofthat noble stream on the sulphur mount,
Its brilliant rays were backward sent
From saber blndes that cleaning lent
New luster to It's brilliant beam,
And TO the enmpturcd bard did seem
That these were not mortal men, but given
From the Cmbattcd hosts who guarded heaven
In the time of which blind Milton sung,
When Satan, ambitious, away had flung
The allegiance due to his heavenly King,
And, mounting upon rcbelious wing,
With half Heavens sons had backward driven
Archaugcls proud, and invaded heaven.
And well might We say that this little band
Were guardian angels Of our land,
For all through the terrible fratrcide,
When the pillows OF war swept far and wide,
And our erring brothers, with desperate en-
deavor,
Attempted our Union Of States to disSever,
And pluck from our beautiful flag the stars,
Leaving US naught but sinister bars,
This sane little band, with It's leader brave,
Were ever foremost their swords To lave
In the bravest blood that their foes could pour
On the hottest fields OF tnat bloody war;
And now sent against the hostile Sioux,
Who, with torch aud ride and scalp-knfe too,
Goaded to war by their young mems ambition
And the weak misrule of the Peace Commission
Have slaughtered innocent babes at the breast
Murdered their mOLhers, and now infest
The Western plains, which blo0mUd Of late
A garden, but now are desolate;
But the ruthless redskins backward borne,
Have be1p trailed to the banks Of the Little
Big Horn,
And the warning bugle sounds " Advanced"
While th' gallant steeds with impatient pninCe
Move slowly on, down the rocky dell,
Toward the stupcndOuS pass of hell:
But mark how the leaders pulses beat
AS he catches the sound Of countless feet,
And within the pass, on plateau green,
An Indian village is partly seen,
With countless lodges stretching Tar,
And countless red skins prepared for war:
"Hurmh |" Hurnh !" the chicftain said,
Gas he waved his cap DER his noble head,)
'"Tls Clusters luck, we behold to-day
THE largest camp in America;
They are ten to our one but what care we
Of the cursed race ho~many tilere be;
Remember their murders, and charge them
home,
That the reptile litter in days to come
viii tremble when Clusters hume is heard,
And pale at the sight OF Il cleaning sword"
But scarce had these words the caieitan said
When on right and rear ON the left and ahead
VI his little band, came yell onyell,
liesounding along that rocky dell,
SO wild and loud that birds on high
Stunned by the sound, fell, prone TO die,
And forth from the rocks on every side
1he painted demons around them ride,
And with yells OF fury these warriors grim,
swarm on our troops and hem them in
While the leaden bullets around tlIem fall
faster than rain ina Western squall:
AS In front of the sickle fails the grain
SO fell they before that awful rain;
But think not that they fell alone,
Or unavenged was Their dying groan,
For wherever hero's life was shed
Two Indian warriors fought aud bled.
Although in that first fierce onset brief
Full half had fallen, around their chief
The soldiers rallied, aud undsmayed
Piled heated pistol and, and dripping blade,
Cutting passage as they go
Through the living mass Of the yelling foe,
B,f human courage and skill could naught
Do with the odds against them brought,
And one by one their lives were reft
Till the gallant Custer alone was left;
Gallant Custer, whose golden hair
Streamed in the wind, as his sabcr bare
That already had struck five Indians dead,
Roeking with blood swung above his head -
Gallant Custer! his race has run;
One last long look at the waning sun,