Bunker Hill

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.
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 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.