Where Indians yell tumultuously.
Rush o’er the bloody field of fame,
Drive back the savage whence he came!
For glory ’waits the victor’s name,
Returning home exultingly.
’Tis done. The dreadful fight is o’er;
Thick clouds of smoke are seen no more—
The snowy plain is red with gore,
Where fell the friends of liberty.
Campbell.