Old war-steed! while combing
Thy dark flowing mane,
In thought I am roaming
Through fields of the slain;
Brave comrades are leaping
To saddle once more,
And follow me steeping
Their sabres in gore:
Through squares formed of steel, that are shattered like glass,
Outspeeding the rush of the whirlwind we pass.

Through wastes, hot and sterile,
Swamps dismal and dread,
Companion in peril!
How oft have we sped,
Though night, long and dreary,
Her curtain had drawn,
Thy limbs never weary,
Would hurry me on:
And back the grim scar that is trenching thy neck
Brings a terrible vision of carnage and wreck.

A host is defending
Molino del Rey,
And clouds are ascending
To curtain the day;
Friends drop, torn asunder
By chain-shot and shell,
The hill shaking thunder
Of cannon their knell!
But on press survivors, while guarded by walls,
Foes check their advance with a tempest of balls.

Loud yells of derision
Prove vain the attack--
Like waves from collision
With rocks they fall back:--
Chill horror is goading
The brave to despair,
And black mines exploding,
Hurl corpses through air;
But true to their colors they rally and form,
Though man cannot live and confront such a storm.

Lo! lancers in motion,
Rank bristling on rank,
Rush, like waves of the ocean,
To charge us in flank;
But signal to meet them
Our bugleman blows,
And long sabres greet them
With skull-cleaving blows:
Horse and rider go down that fierce onslaught before,
And thousands are flying to rally no more.

Companions in danger!
Though now growing old,
For thee would the stranger
In vain offer gold.
The trumpet will cheer not,
My courage decay
That morn when I hear not
Thy welcoming neigh;
For never was a cavalier seen on the back
Of steed that could rival my own gallant black.