A LINE in long array where they wind betwixt green islands, They take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun, -- hark to the musical clank, Behold the silvery river, in it the splashing horses loitering stop to drink, Behold the brown-faced men, each group, each person, a picture, the negligent rest on the saddles, Some emerge on the opposite bank, others are just entering the ford -- while, Scarlet and blue and snowy white, The guidon flags flutter gayly in the wind. |