When sleep is done,
And the rising sun
Shall have burnished thy glossy hair.
To horse again,
And we’ ll scour the plain,
And we’ ll heat up the red man’ s lair.
Then up my gallant steed! the wild wind’ s speed
Is but slow to thy headlong flight;
And we’ ll rein up soon, and the light Dragoon
With his charger will sleep to-night.