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Fremont's ride.
Through San Pablo tearing—tearing through Monterey—
Over bluffs and prairies gallop the mad array.
Over bluffs and prairies gallop the mad array.
The sixth day in the morning they reach a river wide;
The bravest pause before it—Fremont is in the tide!
Over, over, over! follow him to the death!
The swollen waves roll deeper, and two are swept beneath.
The bravest pause before it—Fremont is in the tide!
Over, over, over! follow him to the death!
The swollen waves roll deeper, and two are swept beneath.
Horse and rider struggle—"Forward! the brink is won!
Ride, ride for the Puebla! ride lest the fight be done!"
"Hurrah! Fremont and Freedom! Los Angelos we sight;
Now for the Mexican devils! now for a bloody fight!"
Ride, ride for the Puebla! ride lest the fight be done!"
"Hurrah! Fremont and Freedom! Los Angelos we sight;
Now for the Mexican devils! now for a bloody fight!"
So the sharp tornado whirls from a swooping cloud,—
So comes the sudden lightning down from its lurid shroud:
One rattling shout of thunder, then to the thickest fight—
The dying plunge and quiver, the living take to flight.
So comes the sudden lightning down from its lurid shroud:
One rattling shout of thunder, then to the thickest fight—
The dying plunge and quiver, the living take to flight.
