"Charge!" Sarsfield cried; and the green hill-
side,
As they charged, replied in thunder;
They rode o'er the plain and they rode o'er the
slain,
And the rebel, rout lay under!
He burn'd the gear the knaves held dear,—
For his King he fought, not plunder;
With powder he cramm'd the guns, and ramm'd
Their mouths the red soil under.