The Charge of the Second Iowa Cavalry

Comrades, many a year and day     Have fled since that glorious 9th of May     When we made the charge at Farmington.     But until our days on earth are done     Our blood will burn and our hearts beat fast     As we tell of the glorious moments we passed,     When we rode on the guns with a mighty shout     And saved Paines army from utter rout;     And our children in years to come will tell     How the 2nd rose through the shot and shell     Rode with a cheer on that 9th of May     And held the whole rebel army at bay.     Behind lay the swamp, a dank morass.     A marsh - no horse nor man could pass     Save by one road, one narrow way.     But beyond that road our safety lay,     In front rose the hills which the rebels held     With his howling cannon that raked and shelled     Our troops.     We lay in the centre.     Paine,     Our general saw he must cross again     The narrow road, or his men were lost     The road was narrow. It must be crossed,     And crossed in haste, and the deadly rain     of the rebel guns "Must be stopped!" said Paine.     Twenty-four cannon thundered and roared!     Twenty-four cannon into us poured.     Twenty-four cannon! A devils den     Backed by full fifteen thousand men.     Must be held at bay till our troops could pass     In order over the dank morass.     Up to where the cavalry stand,     Waiting in order the word of command,     Gallops Paine. And his mighty shout     Rings the daring order out -     "Take and hold that battery!     Take it! Whatever the hazards be!"     "Draw sabres!" They flash in the startled air.     "Forward! Gallop! March!" Away     We ride. We must show our steel today!     "Gallop! Charge!" On the rebels ears     Ring the thundering Yankee cheers!     And on, like a wave of maddened sea,     On - Dash the Iowa cavalry!     Into the torrents of shot and shell     That shrieks and screams like the fiends of hell!     Into the torrent of shot that kills!     Into the torrent of shell that stills     The cheer on many a lip, we ride     Like the onward rush of a whirling tide     Up to the cannons mouth,     Our cheers     Curdle the blood of the cannoneers     To right and left from his silenced guns     In wild retreat the rebel runs.     And the charge of the Iowa cavalry     Rushes on!     Can you stop the sea     When the storm waves break on the sandy shore     Driving the driftwood awrack? No more     Can the rebel resist the terrible charge     As we ride right up to their armys marge -     They waver - the fifteen thousand men,     Waver and rally, and waver, and then     Our work is done.     Paines men had crossed     The swamp while our little band was lost     In the smoke and dust of the eager ride,     And are safe at last on the other side.     Then we ride back! We had saved the day     By holding the whole rebel army at bay,     While Paine made a hasty and safe retreat     Over the swamp.     We had conquered defeat!     Comrades, many a year and day     Have fled since that glorious 9th of May     When we made the charge at Farmington.     And our time on earth is almost run,     But when we are gone our children will tell     How we rode through rebel shots and shell.     How we rode on the guns with a mighty shout,     And saved Paines army from utter route.     And carved in the temple of glory will be     The roll of the 2nd Iowa Cavalry.     The brave old 2nd, that never knew     A deed too hard or rash to do.     The dear old 2nd, that would have spurred     Into Hell itself, if Hatch said the word.