Hark! at last they come; now, steady!
Wait the signal gun.
When I fire, fire you. Now! ready?
Fire! Ah! lads, well done!
Like a vaulted wave that shatters
On a rocky coast,
And in mist and salt spray scatters,
Breaks the mighty host.
Like the wave, that swift returning
Bursts upon the strand,
Falls the foe, with hatred burning,
On our little band.
We are scarcely one to seven,
But our cause is just;
Help us in our trial, heaven!
Keep the ford we must.
Fall the shot-clipped leaves about us
Like the summer rain;
Charge the bitter foes to rout us
Ever and again.
Quarter never asked nor given,
Still we beat them back,
Though our slender ranks are riven
With each fierce attack.
Long the fearful battle rages,
Death his harvest reaps—
He will live in history's pages
In the grave who sleeps.
Round us, stronger, ever stronger,
Sweeps the hostile horde;
If the strife continue longer,
We shall lose the ford.
We are scarcely one to seven,
But our cause is just;
Help us in our trial, heaven!
Keep the ford we must!
Hope! The fox, when worn with running,
Subtlety must use:
Let us strive to win by cunning
What by force we lose.