And on the instant, every where was heard the din of fight —
On, like the sea, wave over wave, the army of our foe
Rolled toward our left, and pierced our ranks, and swept the red plateau.
We paused; we turned; some of us—fled, as the foe in thousands came,
And our guns in vain made breaches; and the air was red with flame:
We were staggering; we retreated; we were beaten; we would yield;
But Taylor’s eye shone every where at once along the field,
And the Mississippi volunteers, with Bragg, dashed madly on; —
We turned, and charged; and once again the purple field was won.
On our left the day was ours, when Santa Anna pressed