But soon they did perceive brave Howe,
Brave Howe, our bold commander;
With grenadiers, and infantry,
We made them to surrender.
Brave William Howe, on our right wing,
Cried, "Boys, fight on like thunder;
You soon will see the rebels flee,
With great amaze and wonder."
Now some lay bleeding on the ground,
And some fell fast a-running
O'er hills and dales, and mountains high,
Crying, "Zounds! brave Howe's a-coming."
They 'gan to play on our left wing,
Where Pigot, he commanded;
But we returned it back again,
With courage most undaunted.
To our grape-shot and musket-balls,
To which they were but strangers,
They thought to come with sword in hand,
But soon they found their danger.
And when their works we got into,
And put them to the flight, sirs,
Some of them did hide themselves,
And others died of fright, sirs.
And when their works we got into,
Without great fear or danger,
The works they'd made were firm and strong,
The Yankees are great strangers.
But as for our artillery,
They all behavèd dinty;
For while our ammunition held,
We gave it to them plenty.
But our conductor, he got broke
For his misconduct sure, sir;
The shot he sent for twelve-pound guns,
Were made for twenty-fours, sir.
There's some in Boston pleased to say,
As we the field were taking,
We went to kill their countrymen,
While they their hay were making.