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 horseguards’ 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!