“Charge!” rang the cry, and on we dashed
Upon our female foes,
As seas in stormy fury lashed,
Whene’er the tempest blows.
Like chaff their parasols went down,
As our gallants rushed;
And many a bonnet, robe, and gown
Was torn to shreds or crushed;
Though well we plied the bayonet,
Still some our efforts braved,