| |
| “RIFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot | |
| Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette; | |
| Ring me a ball in the glittering spot | |
| That shines on his breast like an amulet!” | |
| |
| “Ah, captain! here goes for a fine-drawn bead, | 5 |
| There ’s music around when my barrel ’s in tune!” | |
| Crack! went the rifle, the messenger sped, | |
| And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon. | |
| |
| “Now, rifleman, steal through the bushes, and snatch | |
| From your victim some trinket to handsel first blood; | 10 |
| A button, a loop, or that luminous patch | |
| That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud!” | |
| |
| “O captain! I staggered, and sunk on my track, | |
| When I gazed on the face of that fallen vidette, | |
| For he looked so like you, as he lay on his back, | 15 |
| That my heart rose upon me, and masters me yet. | |
| |
| “But I snatched off the trinket,—this locket of gold; | |
| An inch from the centre my lead broke its way, | |
| Scarce grazing the picture, so fair to behold, | |
| Of a beautiful lady in bridal array.” | 20 |
| |
| “Ha! rifleman, fling me the locket!—’t is she, | |
| My brother’s young bride, and the fallen dragoon | |
| Was her husband—Hush! soldier, ’t was Heaven’s decree, | |
| We must bury him there, by the light of the moon! | |
| |
| “But hark! the far bugles their warnings unite; | 25 |
| War is a virtue,—weakness a sin; | |
| There ’s a lurking and loping around us to-night, | |
| Load again, rifleman, keep your hand in!” | |
| |
