But Ridgely took the hero’s place, and, wheeling to the right,
Plunged with his light artillery in the thickest of the fight;
And Duncan, wheeling to the left, poured in his shot like rain,
While our never-ceasing muskets, like a hurricane swept the plain.
One moment, like a herd of wolves, they stood, then broke and fled,
As our army dashed in swift pursuit o’er the dying and the dead!
But the sun was setting fast, and darkness slowly fell,
Like a pall, above the fallen who had fought so long and well;
And we heard our leader’s summons, and our trumpets, call us back,
To refreshment and repose in our lonely bivouac;