Three mounted buglers laced in gold, Sidelong veering, light in seat, High on the crest of battle rolled Ere yet the surge is downward beat, The pennoned trumpets lightly hold -- Mark how they snatch the swift occasion To thrill their rearward invocation -- While the sabres, never coy, Ring responses as they ride; And, like breakers of the tide, All the mad plumes dance for joy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SANTA FE SKETCHES by CARL SANDBURG WHAT I LIVE FOR by GEORGE LINNAEUS BANKS A MOTHER TO HER SICK CHILD by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES A FOREIGN RULER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR RHOECUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |