Staunton spectator and vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1896-1916, 1900-09-21
M0SBY'S MEN.

| RODAA& "AAoOSAA ~ 49,
A. e. Gordon, of this city, was rea'
at the MOsby reunion at Fairfax las
week. 1t will be read with interes
by our readers:
They tell the tale with magic word
The spirits depths to stir,
OF him who fought with Sldney's swOr5
Or rode with Percys spur;
For Honor bourgeons from the mould,
And blossoms from the dust,
Though Percy's antique spur be cold,
And Sidney's sword be rust.
In yet unforgotten day,
When hearts and hopes were high,
| A little band rode down this way
Whose fame will never die.
Their cause was right, their blades wer,
bright,
And Honor shOne again,
A cloud by day, fire by night,
To beckon M0sby's Men.
The wilderness their secret kept,
They bivouacked meath the blue;
The tents they spread, the sleep they slept
The fOeman never knew.
No bugle blast nor tick of drum
Proclaimed their headlong fight;
The startled picket saw them come,
And perished with the sight.
They came as Lightning comes, they went
AS swift the west-wind blow; ~
And blood ran red, and life was spent
Where'er they met the foe.
They buckled to the deadly fray
Where they were one to ten.
He spurred and drew to die or slay,
Who rode with Mosby's Men.
They carried on their sabres there
The fortunes of the Truth;
The breath they breathed was Freedom 8
IL their immortal youth.
1t boots not if the unequal fight
Was lost, though fierce and long,
'Tis written that the eternal right
Can never be made wrong.
Down the dim years, long gone, once more
Appears that phantom band,
hear the changing charge of yore,
see war-rent land.
The vision Of the desperate strife
Returns through mists again.
These were the bravest days of life.
The days of Mosby's Men.
The bravest days of all that shine
Through immem orial years;
Days of ife's sacrifcial wine,
Of loves divinest tears.
When Valor guarded all the land,
When hearts and hopes were high,
And Love and death went hand in hand
With faith that could not die.
But Harry Percy's spur is cold,
And Sidney's sword is rust;
And many lad, who rode of old
With that gay band, is dus It;
While those, bereft, who linger yet,
Are wearisr now than then.
What matter? They cannot forget
That they were Mosby's Men.
hat they were Mosby's Men, and rode,
As soldiers love to ride,
Where the red stream Of battle flowed
With its most swelling tide.
10 future stream may run so red,
No higher tide may flow,
ill God shall wake the heroic dead
From where His four winds blow.
he cir cling seasons come and 60,
Springs dawn and autums set,
md winter with Its drifted snow
Repays the summers debt;
md song of bird and tint of bloom
Are gay and bright, as when
hose gallent lads rode their doom
Long since with MOsby's Men.
ut winter wears a sadder guise, |
And ghastlier for its snow,
o him who looks with time. worn eyes
On scenes of long ago;
nd neither autumn's glow, nor spring,
Nor summers emerald sod
o hearts grown Id again may bring
The dead who sleep with God.
!; is His will for swords to rust
That battle for the right;
or banners to be trailed in dust
That lead the hOliest fight;
or Wrong to wear the victOr's name,
Where one msy strive with ten;-
ut fate can never take from fame
The deeds of Mosby's Men.