Matthews, Brander, 1852-1929 / 2008-09-15 00:00:00

He was one of the last to leave the
field, and as a British officer in the redoubt called to him to
surrender, a ball struck him in the forehead, killing him
instantly._
Stand! the ground's your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
Hope ye mercy still?
What's the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle-peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel.
Ask it,--ye who will.
Fear ye foes who kill for hire?
Will ye to your homes retire?
Look behind you!--they're a-fire!
And, before you, see
Who have done it!--From the vale
On they come!--And will ye quail?--
Leaden rain and iron hail
Let their welcome be!
In the God of battles trust!
Die we may,--and die we must;--
But, O, where can dust to dust
Be consigned so well,
As where Heaven its dews shall shed
On the martyred patriot's bed,
And the rocks shall raise their head,
Of his deeds to tell!


THE OLD CONTINENTALS
GUY HUMPHREY McMASTER
[Sidenote: 1775--1783]
_The nucleus of the Continental Army was the New England force
gathered before Boston, to the command of which Washington had been
appointed two days before the battle of Bunker Hill, although he
arrived too late to take part in that fight._
In their ragged regimentals
Stood the old continentals,
Yielding not,
When 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;
And 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.
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