Returning in triumph, instead of reward
For the marches we made and the battles we won,
There were threats of the fetters or bullet or sword—
Were these a fair guerdon for what we had done?
When this madman abhorred
Appealed to the sword,
And our leader said—“fight!” did he think we would run?
Battle-scarred, and a handful of men as we were,
We feared not to combat with lord or with lown,
So we took the old wretch at his word—that was fair;