THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.

THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.

No bridges stood uniting shore with shoreAnd houses, bounded by the busy streamOn either hand, were few; men caught a gleamOf crippled Boston, through whose highways toreThe troops; embarking, on they swiftly bore'Mid roaring cannon and the awful screamOf shells; poor puppets of a royal schemeTo King Taxation's iron rule restore.The honest sod recoiled from their hot tread,But baffled fury trod with reckless hasteTill hemmed about by their own slaughtered deadWhen twice the dizzy charge had been retraced;They found no weakling foe was that aheadAnd shivered at the task which yet they faced.Above doomed Charlestown bombs were bursting shrill,And flaming steeples pierced the pitying skyAs eager feet kept marching, marching byTo where the cheer triumphant sent a thrillAthwart the loyal breast of Bunker Hill."Aim low and fire!" Well might the red-coats flyBefore the "echo" of brave Prescott's cry,A cry that speared them with defeat's cold chill.Though twice Columbia's pulse victorious stirred,Ere twilight could her sable shield prepare,A long derisive "British yell" was heardTo summon forth battalions of despair;When it was only victory deferredTo even lure the "Lion" from his lair.With muskets clubbed our fathers held the slopeWhich midnight saw them arming for the fray,And still they strove to keep the foe at bay;Beside the fence they saw their comrades copeWith those who would fore'er the star of hopeEclipse behind the slavery cloud and say:—"Thus Monarchy subdues her rebel prey."Although the fields were red they would not gropeBut dared the "Glasgow," dared the lance, the gun;And, founders of a nation, boldly soughtOn Prospect's brow the rest so nobly won,While other lands the blessed tidings caughtOf daring deeds by "mere provincials" done,And marveled at the skill with which they fought.

No bridges stood uniting shore with shoreAnd houses, bounded by the busy streamOn either hand, were few; men caught a gleamOf crippled Boston, through whose highways toreThe troops; embarking, on they swiftly bore'Mid roaring cannon and the awful screamOf shells; poor puppets of a royal schemeTo King Taxation's iron rule restore.The honest sod recoiled from their hot tread,But baffled fury trod with reckless hasteTill hemmed about by their own slaughtered deadWhen twice the dizzy charge had been retraced;They found no weakling foe was that aheadAnd shivered at the task which yet they faced.Above doomed Charlestown bombs were bursting shrill,And flaming steeples pierced the pitying skyAs eager feet kept marching, marching byTo where the cheer triumphant sent a thrillAthwart the loyal breast of Bunker Hill."Aim low and fire!" Well might the red-coats flyBefore the "echo" of brave Prescott's cry,A cry that speared them with defeat's cold chill.Though twice Columbia's pulse victorious stirred,Ere twilight could her sable shield prepare,A long derisive "British yell" was heardTo summon forth battalions of despair;When it was only victory deferredTo even lure the "Lion" from his lair.With muskets clubbed our fathers held the slopeWhich midnight saw them arming for the fray,And still they strove to keep the foe at bay;Beside the fence they saw their comrades copeWith those who would fore'er the star of hopeEclipse behind the slavery cloud and say:—"Thus Monarchy subdues her rebel prey."Although the fields were red they would not gropeBut dared the "Glasgow," dared the lance, the gun;And, founders of a nation, boldly soughtOn Prospect's brow the rest so nobly won,While other lands the blessed tidings caughtOf daring deeds by "mere provincials" done,And marveled at the skill with which they fought.

No bridges stood uniting shore with shoreAnd houses, bounded by the busy streamOn either hand, were few; men caught a gleamOf crippled Boston, through whose highways toreThe troops; embarking, on they swiftly bore'Mid roaring cannon and the awful screamOf shells; poor puppets of a royal schemeTo King Taxation's iron rule restore.The honest sod recoiled from their hot tread,But baffled fury trod with reckless hasteTill hemmed about by their own slaughtered deadWhen twice the dizzy charge had been retraced;They found no weakling foe was that aheadAnd shivered at the task which yet they faced.

No bridges stood uniting shore with shore

And houses, bounded by the busy stream

On either hand, were few; men caught a gleam

Of crippled Boston, through whose highways tore

The troops; embarking, on they swiftly bore

'Mid roaring cannon and the awful scream

Of shells; poor puppets of a royal scheme

To King Taxation's iron rule restore.

The honest sod recoiled from their hot tread,

But baffled fury trod with reckless haste

Till hemmed about by their own slaughtered dead

When twice the dizzy charge had been retraced;

They found no weakling foe was that ahead

And shivered at the task which yet they faced.

Above doomed Charlestown bombs were bursting shrill,And flaming steeples pierced the pitying skyAs eager feet kept marching, marching byTo where the cheer triumphant sent a thrillAthwart the loyal breast of Bunker Hill."Aim low and fire!" Well might the red-coats flyBefore the "echo" of brave Prescott's cry,A cry that speared them with defeat's cold chill.Though twice Columbia's pulse victorious stirred,Ere twilight could her sable shield prepare,A long derisive "British yell" was heardTo summon forth battalions of despair;When it was only victory deferredTo even lure the "Lion" from his lair.

Above doomed Charlestown bombs were bursting shrill,

And flaming steeples pierced the pitying sky

As eager feet kept marching, marching by

To where the cheer triumphant sent a thrill

Athwart the loyal breast of Bunker Hill.

"Aim low and fire!" Well might the red-coats fly

Before the "echo" of brave Prescott's cry,

A cry that speared them with defeat's cold chill.

Though twice Columbia's pulse victorious stirred,

Ere twilight could her sable shield prepare,

A long derisive "British yell" was heard

To summon forth battalions of despair;

When it was only victory deferred

To even lure the "Lion" from his lair.

With muskets clubbed our fathers held the slopeWhich midnight saw them arming for the fray,And still they strove to keep the foe at bay;Beside the fence they saw their comrades copeWith those who would fore'er the star of hopeEclipse behind the slavery cloud and say:—"Thus Monarchy subdues her rebel prey."Although the fields were red they would not gropeBut dared the "Glasgow," dared the lance, the gun;And, founders of a nation, boldly soughtOn Prospect's brow the rest so nobly won,While other lands the blessed tidings caughtOf daring deeds by "mere provincials" done,And marveled at the skill with which they fought.

With muskets clubbed our fathers held the slope

Which midnight saw them arming for the fray,

And still they strove to keep the foe at bay;

Beside the fence they saw their comrades cope

With those who would fore'er the star of hope

Eclipse behind the slavery cloud and say:—

"Thus Monarchy subdues her rebel prey."

Although the fields were red they would not grope

But dared the "Glasgow," dared the lance, the gun;

And, founders of a nation, boldly sought

On Prospect's brow the rest so nobly won,

While other lands the blessed tidings caught

Of daring deeds by "mere provincials" done,

And marveled at the skill with which they fought.


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