We pause, and return upon them
Such a fire as shakes the hills;
Montizambert’s guns tear through them,
And our lines with confidence thrills.
Jarvis’s battery joins the left,
And thunders beside the stream;
And Howard’s gatling is raging—
From its lips the missiles scream.
’Twas dreadful, the roar and tumult,
But our men rise above fear;
Ha! the Midlanders and Grens rush on,
Winning the first line with a cheer.
“Forward, now, with the bayonet!”
Rings out along the whole line,
And a cheerful, responsive cry
Rose from a valor sublime.
Forward, now, dauntless Midlanders,
And brave Royal Grenadiers!
And, gallant Ninetieth, sweep the plain;
Ring out, ring out defiant cheers!
And, Boulton, with your mounted men,
Rush on the doomed rebels, too:
Ye ’re not the corps to pause nor shrink
When there’s daring work to do!
Ho, scouts! to the front; forward, too,
Rush like mad upon the foe;
A French leads on, ye need not doubt;
Strike with might a crushing blow!
Montizambert, let your guns rage,
And Howard’s gatling gun scream,
And rend the rebel pits and lines,
And shake the trembling stream!
The decisive moment had come—
Forward! forward! side by side;
“Charge home!” the general ordered,
With manly, confident pride.
And the ring of our flashing steel
Greeted his lionlike eye,
And we swept like a besom on
With a thrilling battle-cry.
Gallantly and swiftly onward
With a mighty rush we go,
And burst like a pent-up torrent
On the desperate fighting foe.
Like chaff by the wind we swept them
From pit and from dark ravine;
The bayonet was effectual,
And withering as a flame.
Aye, we struck the pits and ravines
In our fiery onward roll,
But not for a single moment
Was the charge beyond control.
Hand to hand we taught them a lesson
They ne’er will forget again,
And broken and beaten they fled
Over the wide death-strewn plain.
From line to line we pressed them,
Turning their right on our way;
Clearing their works with our lines of steel,
And thus deciding the day.
From every point we charged them,
Till Batoche lay at our feet;
The rebels were utterly ruined,
And our victory complete.
And we pulled their bunting down,
And hoisted the Old Flag again,
And a storm of heartfelt greeting
Rolled in thunder o’er the plain.
And we cheered for Queen and country,
And our chief we loved so well,
And silently dropped a tear
For those who in fighting fell.
Mournfully to the muffled drum,
At the smile of another dawn,
We put our gallant dead away
By the dark Saskatchewan;
And we wept as never before,
And silently marched away,
Leaving them there at peace and rest
Till dawn of the judgment day.