Troopers Poetry

Hough!

Pressing here my mossy pillow, Forms that moulder ‘neath the willow, Forms that sleep beneath the billow, Flit and frolic round me now; Banishing all thought of mourning, All my dreams with joy adorning, May they tarry till the morning Ere they breathe their “Hough!” “Hough!” boys, “Hough!”–“Hough!” boys, “Hough!” Let the soldier’s toast be

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O’Grady

The following versus are based upon a real occurrence from the 2nd Cavalry. Friday evening, after stables, the sergeant passed the wordThat inspection would be mounted, such a “roaring” as was heard,For the captain was a “corker.” When he looked you in the eye,You’ ld wish you were a “doughboy,” if he asked the reason

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