Then where their remnant lay at bay our angry torrent rolled—
As when a dam gives way, and leaves the waters uncontrolled—
Sweeping to break the square of steel in centre of their hold.
No peal of trump nor tap of drum our eager footsteps timed;
With firelocks clubbed or knife in hand, our faces powder-grimed,
Fatigue unfelt and fear unknown, the ridge of earth we climbed;
Down from its crest we fearless plunged amid the smoke clouds dun,
But struck no blow upon the foe—resistance there was none—
Down fell their arms, uprose the white, and Bennington was won.
Then greeted we surviving friends, and mourned for those who fell,