Aye, but the foe sprung his mine many times, and it chanced on a
day
Soon as the blast of that underground thunder-clap echoed away,
Dark thro' the smoke and the sulphur, like so many fiends in
their hell,
Cannon-shot, musket-shot, volley on volley, and yell upon yell--
Fiercely on all the defenses our myriad enemy fell.
What have they done? Where is it? Out yonder, guard the Redan!
Storm at the water-gate! storm at the Bailey-gate! storm! and it
ran
Surging and swaying all round us, as ocean on every side
Plunges and heaves at a bank that is daily drowned by the tide--
So many thousands, that if they be bold enough, who shall escape?
Kill or be killed, live or die, they shall know we are soldiers
and men!
Ready! take aim at their leaders--their masses are gapped with
our grape--
Backward they reel like the wave, like the wave flinging forward
again,
Flying and foiled at the last by the handful they could not
subdue;
And ever upon our topmost roof our banner of England blew.