To the walls where the foe had rallied his horde.
Like a boy, to a ladder the Captain has leapt,
You can see, far in front, the gleam of his sword.
Then up thro’ the smoke, like a wraith, he has gone—
And Reilly went on—bold Reilly went on!
XII.
O sweet harp of Erin, sound gently thy lay!
O star of Colombia, be swift with thy light!
He fell—and the summit of Glory that day
Was the rampart he scaled alone in the fight.