Heard ye the guns, the distant guns,
That thundered down the vale,
When comrades strode the mountain road
To brave the battle gale?...
O, see the worn, returning men whose march no fire could stem,
And hear their song as they surge along
The road to Bethlehem!
O, hear the hoofs, the iron hoofs,
Falling in Bethlehem,
While sunlight flames on the ruddy roofs