t--
On the Prairies of Peace, in the Valleys of Rest.

CHARGE OF FREMONT'S BODY-GUARD

On they ride--on they ride--
Only three hundred,--
Ride the brave Body-Guard,
From the "Prairie Scouts" sundered:
Two thousand riflemen,
Ambushed on either side,
The signal of slaughter bide:
Ho! has the farmer-guide
Led them astray and lied?
How can they pass the wood?
On they ride--on they ride--
Fearlessly, readily,
Silently, steadily
Ride the brave Body-Guard
Led by Zagonyi.

Up leap the Southrons there;
Loud breaks the battle-blare;
Now swings his hat in air;
Flashes his saber bare:
"_Draw sabers;--follow me_!"
Shouts the brave Captain:
"_Union and Liberty_!"
Thunders the Captain.
Three hundred sabers flash;
Three hundred Guardsmen dash
On to the fierce attack;
Into the _cul-de-sac_
Plunge the Three Hundred.
Yell the mad ambushed pack--
Two thousand rifles crack
At the Three Hundred.

Dire is the death they deal,
Gleams the steel--volleys peal--
Horses plunge--riders reel;
Sabers and bayonets clash;
Guns in their faces flash;
Blue coats are spattered red--
Fifty brave Guards are dead--
Zagonyi is still ahead,
Swinging his hat in air,
Flashing his saber:
"Steady men;--steady there;
Forward--Battalion!"

On they plunge--on they dash
Thro' the dread gantlet;
Death gurgles in the gash
Of furious-dealt saber-slash;
Over them the volleys crash
Thro' the trees like a whirlwind.
They pass through the fire of death;
Pant riders and steeds for breath;
"_Halt!_" cried the Captain
Then he looked up the hill;
There on the summit still
The "Third Company" paltered.
Right through the fire of hell,
Where fifty brave Guardsmen fell,
Zagonyi had ridden well;
Foley had faltered.

Flashed like a flame of fire--
Flashed with a menace dire--
Flashed with a yell of ire
The sword of the Captain.
Kennedy saw the flash,
And ordered the "Third" to dash
Gallantly forward:
"Come on, Boys, for Liberty!
Forward, and follow me!
Remember Kentucky!"
Into the hell they broke--
Into the fire and smoke--
Dealing swift saber-stroke--
The gallant Kentuckians.
Horses plunge,
Riders lunge
Heavily forward;
Over the fallen they ride
Down to Zagonyi's side,
Mowing a swath of death
Either side,--right and left
Piling the slaughtered!

Under the storm of lead,
Still hissing overhead,
They re-formed the battle-line;
Then the brave Captain said:
"Guardsmen: avenge our dead!
_Ch