41
THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.
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.
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 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,
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,
