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!
Charge!”—­Up the hill they go,—­
Right into the swarming foe! 
Woe to the foemen—­woe! 
See mad Zagonyi there;
Streams on the wind his hair,
Flashes his saber bare;
  On they go—­on they go;
  Volleys flash,
  Sabers clash,
On they plunge, on they dash,
Following Zagonyi
  Into the hell again.

Hand to hand fight and die
  Infantry, cavalry;
Grappled and mixed they lie—­
  Infantry, cavalry: 
Hurra!—­the Rebels fly! 
Bravo!—­Three Hundred! 
“Forward and follow me!”
  Shouted the Captain;
“Union and Liberty!”
  All the Guards thundered. 
With mad hearts and sabers stout
Into the Rebel-rout
  Gallop the Guardsmen,