‘By torch and trumpet fast array’d,
Each horseman drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neigh’d,
To join the dreadful revelry.
‘Then shook the hills with thunder riv’n,
Then rush’d the steed to battle driv’n,
And louder than the bolts of heav’n
Far flash’d the red artillery.
‘But redder yet that light shall glow
On Linden’s hills of stained snow,