And his wife who, ’mid the slaughter, had been bearing pails of water
For the gun and for the gunner, o’er his body shed no tear.
“Move the piece!”—but there they found her loading, firing that six-pounder,
And she gayly, till we won, worked the gun.
Loud we cheered as Captain Molly waved the rammer; then a volley
Pouring in upon the grenadiers, we sternly drove them back;
Though like tigers fierce they fought us, to such zeal had Molly brought us
That, though struck with heat, and thirsting, yet of drink we felt no lack:
There she stood amid the clamor, busily handling sponge and rammer,
While we swept with wrath condign on their line.