All the windows of the city,
Sounded forth huzzas and shoutings,
While the handkerchiefs were waving,
Flags-of-truce, their white unfurling.
Nearer came the weary Guardsmen,
Hatless, spurless, weary Guardsmen,
With white pants, alas! all muddy;
Torn and soiled the true-blue jackets,
Scratched and worn the hands and faces.
But the great crest-fallen captive,