Of that reckless advance, of that straggling retreat!
Keep the ghost of that wife, foully slain, in your view—
And what could you, what should you, what would you do?
"Why, just what he did! They were left in the lurch
For the want of more wadding. He ran to the church,
Broke down the door, stripped the pews, and dashed out in the road
With his arms full of hymn-books, and threw down his load
At their feet! Then above all the shouting and shots
Rang his voice, 'Put Watts into 'em! Boys, give 'em Watts.'