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GILLESPIE
65
Fierce and fain, fierce and fain,Behind him went the troopers grim,They rode as ride the Light Dragoons,But never a man could ride with him.
Their rowels ripped their horses' sides,Their hearts were red with a deeper goad,But ever alone before them allGillespie rode, Gillespie rode.
Alone he came to false Vellore,The walls were lined, the gates were barred;Alone he walked where the bullets bit,And called above to the Sergeant's Guard.
"Sergeant, Sergeant, over the gate,Where are your officers all?" he said;Heavily came the Sergeant's voice,"There are two living and forty dead."
"A rope, a rope," Gillespie cried:They bound their belts to serve his need;There was not a rebel behind the wallBut laid his barrel and drew his bead.
There was not a rebel among them allBut pulled his trigger and cursed his aim,For lightly swung and rightly swungOver the gate Gillespie came.
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