Carmen Bellicosum

Guy Humphrey McMaster (1829–1887)

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. George’s

Cannoneers;

And the “villanous saltpetre”

Rung a fierce, discordant metre

Round their ears;

As the swift

Storm-drift,

With hot sweeping anger, came the horseguards’ clangor

On our flanks;

Then higher, higher, higher, burned the old-fashioned fire

Through the ranks!

Then the bare-headed colonel

Galloped through the white infernal

Powder-cloud;

And his broad sword was swinging

And his brazen throat was ringing

Trumpet-loud.

Then the blue

Bullets flew,

And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch of the leaden

Rifle-breath;

And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the iron six-pounder,

Hurling death!

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