Loudly roared his iron cannon, mingling ever in the strife,
And beside him, firm and daring, stood his faithful Irish wife;
Of her bold contempt of danger, Greene and Lee’s brigade could tell,
Every one knew “Captain Molly,” and the army loved her well.
Surged the roar of battle round them; swiftly flew the iron hail;
Forward dashed a thousand bayonets that lone battery to assail;
From the foeman’s foremost columns swept a furious fusilade,
Mowing down the massed battalions in the ranks of Greene’s brigade.
Faster and faster worked the gunner, soiled with powder, blood and dust;
English bayonets shone before him, shot and shell around him burst;