“The priming in the guns is wet; what now is to be done?”
“Then let them use the bayonet!” was his answer to the man;
At which a hum of confidence among the soldiers ran.
All filled with silent, stern resolve, they strode so proudly then,
I knew they would before the foe acquit themselves like men.
The sun arose, and still we marched, I somewhat in advance,
A voice cried, “Wer da? Halt!” I saw a musket-barrel glance.
“A friend,” I answered. “Freund von wem?” “A friend to Washington!”
The sentry fired and missed, and ran and cast away his gun;
For now behind me, pressing on, he saw our troops were near,