Then upon our very wheeling came the pealing of our volley,
And our balls made red a pathway down the hill;
Broke the foe, and shrank and cowered; rang again the voice of Howard—
“Give the hireling dogs the bayonet!”—and we did it with a will.
In the mean while one red-coated troop, unnoted, riding faster
Than their comrades, on our rear in fury bore;
But the light-horse led by Washington soon brought it to disaster,
For they shattered it and scattered it, and smote it fast and sore.
Like a herd of startled cattle from the battle-field we drove them;
In disorder down the Mill-gap road they fled;