Where unperceiv’d they stood as stones.
The eighteenth day of dark December,
In Forty Five, you’ll this remember,
After the setting of the sun,
Just as Black night was coming on,
The King’s dragoons and Kingston’s horse
Came prancing up, at unawares.
A volley shot out thro’ the hedge,
Full on their flank did them engage,
Which in confusion did them throw,