168 Carmen Bellicosum

IN their ragged regimentals,

Stood the old Continentals,

Yielding not,

While the grenadiers were lunging,

And like hail fell the plunging

Cannon-shot;

When the files

Of the isles,

From the smoky night-encampment, bore the banner of the rampant

Unicorn;

And grummer, grummer, grummer, rolled the roll of the drummer

Through the morn!

Then with eyes to the front all,

And with guns horizontal,

Stood our sires;

While the balls whistled deadly,

And in streams flashing redly

Blazed the fires:

As the roar

On the shore

Swept the strong battle-breakers o’er the green-sodded acres

Of the plain;

And louder, louder, louder, cracked the black gunpowder,

Cracking amain!

Now like smiths at their forges

Worked the red St. George’s

Cannoneers,

And the villainous saltpetre

Rang a fierce, discordant metre

Round our ears:

As the swift

Storm-drift,

With hot sweeping anger, came the horse-guards’ clangor

On our flanks

Then higher, higher, higher, burned the old-fashioned fire

Through the ranks!

Then the bare-headed Colonel

Galloped through the white infernal

Powder-cloud;

And his broadsword was swinging,

And his brazen throat was ringing

Trumpet-loud;

Then the blue

Bullets flew,

And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch of the leaden

Rifle-breath;

And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the iron six-pounder,

Hurling death!

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