2. “’Twas an hour past midnight, twelve hours ago,— We were all asleep, you know, Save the officer on his rounds, And the guard-relief,—when sounds The signal-gun! once—twice— Thrice! and then, in a trice, The long assembly-call rang sharp and clear, Till ‘Boots and Saddles’ made us scamper like mice. No time to waste In asking whether a fight was near; Over the horses went their traps in haste; Not ten minutes had past Ere we stood in marching gear, And the call of the roll was followed by orders fast: ‘Prepare to mount!’ ‘Mount!’—and the company ranks were made; Then in each rank, by fours, we took the count, And the head of the column wheeled for the long parade. 3. “There, on the beaten ground, The regiment formed from right to left; Our Colonel, straight in his saddle, looked around, Reining the stallion in, that felt the heft Of his rider, and stamped his foot, and wanted to dance. At last the order came: ‘By twos: forward, march!’—and the same From each officer in advance; And, as the rear-guard left the spot, We broke into the even trot. 4. “‘Trot, march!’—two by two, In the dust and in the dew, Roads and open meadows through. Steadily we kept the tune Underneath the stars and moon. None, except the Colonel, knew What our orders were to do; Whether on a forage-raid We were tramping, boot and blade, Or a close reconnoissance Ere the army should advance; One thing certain, we were bound Straight for Stuart’s camping-ground. Plunging into forest-shade, Well we knew each glen and glade! Sweet they smelled, the pine and oak, And of home my comrade spoke. Tramp, tramp, out again, Sheer across the ragged plain, Where the moonbeams glaze our steel And the fresher air we feel. Thus a triple league, and more, Till behind us spreads the gray, Pallid light of breaking day, And on cloudy hills, before, Rebel camp-fires smoke away. Hard by yonder clump of pines We should touch the rebel lines: ‘Walk, march!’ and, softly now, Gain yon hillock’s westward brow.