Then up he rose, with eyes on fire,
Most dreadful to the view;
To arms! to arms! aloud he cry’d,
And forth his faulchion drew.
To arms! to arms! full long and sore,
The rattling drums did beat;
To arms! in haste! each soldier flies,
And scours thro’ ev’ry street.
The women shriek, and wring their hands,
Their children weep around;