The Battle of Assye
And then the view was hid from us wholly—
Like a fleecy fringe on a garment's hem,
The whole of the front of their line outbroke
In a dense, white bank of blinding smoke,
That rose against the blue sky slowly,
While the red death flickered in spirts of fire
As each cannon opened its lips and spoke
A deep-mouthed warning to bid us retire.
"On the left the Kaitua hemmed us in,
On the right a rushing watercourse;
In front their masses of infantry,
Their surging waves of Mahratta horse,
Came down on us like a winter sea;
And we fought as they fought who fight for life—
Each one as though the army's fate
Hung on the strength of his own right wrist
When he warded away the cold curved knife,
And the wiry devil that wielded it
Recoiled from the bayonet—just too late—
And the steel came out with a wrench and a twist.
So we fought and slew in the midst of the din
Till their line was broken—till man and horse—
Fled over the rushing watercourse,
And the greatest fight of the world was our own!
And now my face is scarred to the bone,
And I'm lame maybe from a musket-ball—
Yet I thank God always (and ever shall)
That I fought in a fight the world will applaud;
For the new generations by and bye
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