Riding a Raid

Riding a Raid

 

'Tis old Stonewall, the Rebel,

that leans on his sword,

And while we are mounting,

prays low to the Lord:

"Now each cavalier

that loves Honor and Right,

Let him follow the feather

of Stuart tonight."

Come tighten your girth

and slacken your rein;

Come buckle your blanket

and holster again;

the click of your trigger

and balance your blade,

For he must ride sure

that goes Riding a Raid!

Now gallop, now gallop,

to swim or to ford!

Old Stonewall, still watching,

prays low to the Lord:

"Good-bye dear old Rebel!

The river's not wide,

And Maryland's lights

in her window to guide."

Then gallop, then gallop,

by rivers and rocks!

Who would bar us the way

take his toll in hard knocks;

For with these points of steel,

on the line of Penn,

We have made some fine strokes

and we'll make 'em again.