Arizona republican., 1907-07-05
Iht ROu6n RIDERS
By John s. McGroarty.

l By John s. McGroarty. | (Read by the author at the unveil- ling of the Rough Rider equestrian statue in the Plaza at Prescott, Ari- zona, July 3, 1907) Souls of rough riding men, the first born and the last, Come and gather round us from out the storied past, Come from the field of Monmouth, the red-dyed Rapidian. z Come with Putnam and Marion. Stone wall and Sheridan; Far from silent bivouacs that sleep in ancient dust, Leap again to saddle. unsheathe your swords of rust, List to the bugle ringing. clear on-the desert sky, Calling the war-worn troopers that now go riding by. hard riding men. Who fought with swinging sabers, of
 old. OCT hill and glen, Souls of the strong adventurers who blazed the bloody trail. Down from the guns of Lexington to Shenandoah's vale. Halt your ghostly riders. your squad rons side b- side. While they ride by who rode, as you, upon the battles tide, Wanderers of the savage hills and deserts blinding plain, Who spilled their eager hearts against the chivalry of Spain. We'll dream again they're gathered from near and far away. That host that to the Alamo rode down one sum- kissed day. The broncho busters of the plain. the
 hunters from the hill The keepers of the rainless wastes that love and lure them still; Brood of the trackless wilderness sweet with the deserts breath. Spawn of the brown Southwest whose trails are dim with death We'll dream once more they're mus tered, here meath skies aglow, A thousand strong in the rendezvous as then at the Alamo. And as the dust-brown columns sweep on with thunder tread. Full will we fling a cheer for him, the chieftain at the head, A cheer for him. the chieftain. who led them on the way. At whose clear call to glory they gall loped to the fray, Him they trailed to victory where famed the flag unfurled, The one great heart of all best loved of all the world We'll lift our hearts to greet him as
 breaks the vision, then. Of Roosevelt still riding with his rough
 riding men. Sing from your throat. Q bugle. as
 they ride forth at dawn, From Caney and Guasimas and the
 hill at San Juan: Turn again. O Memory. with heart that
 holds them dear. Again their steeds are hamping. the hoof-beats sounding near; Home from crimson fights they won.
 - home the- come at last. To ride,in full review before the spirits
 of the past, Here, where one silent trooper waits
 upon the way The last rung trumpet call that
 wakes the Judgment Day. Onward they come in full review, the
 living and the dead, Troop and the plunging squadron.
 their leader at the head. And he will halt his charger while
 all the columns wheel. Where face to face they stand again
 Roosevelt and O'Neill. Up to the Coloners lips will leap his
 saber in salute To him. the well-loved Captain, who
 sits the stirruos mute. Smiling as when he answered to free
 dom's crowding roll, And death flung to the darkness his
 wild and gallant soul. So shall they come with Memory from
 near and far away. The host that from the Alamo rode
 out one sunlit day Back the: come to mountain and des-
 ert's s1'ning plain. The living and the gloried dead,
 the wcIndcd and the slam, Every saddle set once more as when
 the: rode to war. To strike for new republic. to die
 for a Lew born star: Not gap in the ranks of dream that
 sailed the trocic sea. Ct."ncl arI Captains and troopers all
 hone rom Cub1 free. So shall the:' come and pass away as
 evenings shadow falls, And good night songs of reveille the
 singing bugle calls, Leaving this one lone sentry upon the
 grim plateau Over the purpled buttes aflame and
 shifting dunes below, Here in his silent stirrups with desert
 stars agleam, Soul of the wild adventure, heart of
 the deathless dream, Che faithful. sun-browned trooper that
 waits upon the way The last rung trumpet call that wakes
 the Judgment Day.