'The flag is lowered they re off they come I 



The squadron is sweeping on! 

 There s a sway in the crowd a murmuring 



They're here they're past they're gone. 

 They came with the rush of the southern surf 

 On the bar of the storm-girt bay ; 



) like muffled drums on the sounding turf, 

 'Their hoof-strokes echo away" 



GORDON. 



