shell:

With late, but certain, victory flushed

The grim Dutch gunners eyed them well.

They wrenched at the planks 'mid a hail of fire:

They fell in death, their work half done:

The bridge stood fast; and nigh and nigher

The foe swarmed darkly, densely on.

"O who for Erin will strike a stroke?

Who hurl yon planks where the waters roar?"

Six warriors forth from their comrades broke,