The Battle of Bunkers-Hill Part 6

_In the Same Measure with a Sea Piece, Ent.i.tled the "Tempest."_

--Cease, rude Boreas, bl.u.s.t'ring railer--

I.

You bold warriors, who resemble Flames, upon the distant hill, At whose view, the heroes tremble, Fighting with unequal skill.

Loud-sounding drums now with hoa.r.s.e murmurs, Rouse the spirit up to war, Fear not, fear not, tho' their numbers, Much to ours, superior are.

Hear brave WARREN bold commanding, "Gallant souls and vet'rans brave, See the enemy just landing, From the navy-cover'd wave.

Close the wings--advance the center-- Engineers point well your guns-- Clap the matches, let the rent air, Bellow to _Britannia's_ sons."

II.

Now think you see, three thousand moving, Up the brow of BUNKERS-HILL, Many a gallant vet'ran shoving, Cowards on against their will.

The curling volumes all behind them, Dusky clouds of smoke arise, Our cannon-b.a.l.l.s, brave boys shall find them, At each shot a hero dies.

Once more WARREN midst this terror, "Charge, brave soldiers, charge again, Many an expert vet'ran warrior Of the enemy is slain.

Level well your charged pieces, In direction to the town; They shake, they shake, their lightning ceases, That shot brought six standards down."

III.

Maids in virgin beauty blooming, On _Britannia's_ sea-girt isle, Say no more your swains are coming, Or with songs the day beguile.

For sleeping sound in death's embraces, On their clay-cold beds they lie, Death, grim death, alas defaces, Youth and pleasure which must die.

"March the right wing, GARD'NER, yonder, Take th' a.s.sailing foe in flank, The hero's spirit lives in thunder, Close there, sergeants, close that rank.

The conflict now doth loudly call on Highest proof of martial skill, Heroes shall sing of them, who fall on, The slipp'ry brow of BUNKERS-HILL."

IV.

Unkindest fortune, still thou changest, As the wind upon the wave, The good and bad alike thou rangest, Undistinguish'd in the grave.

Shall kingly tyrants see thee smiling, Whilst the brave and just must die, Them of sweet hope and life beguiling In the arms of victory?

"Behave this day, my lads, with spirit, Wrap the hill-top as in flame; Oh, if we fall, let each one merit, Immortality in fame.

From this high ground like Vesuv'us Pour the floods of fire along; Let not, let not, numbers move us, We are yet five hundred strong."

V.

Many a widow sore bewailing Tender husbands, shall remain, With tears and sorrows, unavailing, From this hour to mourn them slain.

The rude scene striking all by-standers, Bids the little band retire, Who can live like salamanders, In such floods of liquid fire?

"Ah! Our troops are sorely pressed, HOWE ascends the smoky hill, Wheel inward, let these ranks be faced, We have yet some blood to spill.

Our right wing push'd, our left surrounded, Weight of numbers five to one, WARREN dead, and GARD'NER wounded, Ammunition is quite gone."

VI.

See the steely points, bright gleaming, In the sun's fierce dazzling ray, Groans arising, life-blood streaming, Purple o'er the face of day.

The field is cover'd with the dying, Free-men mixt with tyrants lie, The living with each other vying, Raise the shout of battle high.

Now brave PUTNAM, aged soldier, "Come, my vet'rans, we must yield; More equal match'd, we'll yet charge bolder, For the present quit the field.

The G.o.d of battles shall revisit, On their heads each soul that dies, Take courage, boys, we yet sha'n't miss it, From a thousand victories."

A SPEECH

_By GENERAL WAs.h.i.+NGTON, on his entering the Town of Boston, at the head of the American Army, after the British troops were by his skilful approaches obliged to abandon it._

Auspicious day, of happiness unmix'd!

When this fair City, without blood-shed won, Receives to her sweet bosom, once again, Her free-born sons, of perseverance try'd, And n.o.ble fort.i.tude, in deeds of arms.

Now let the father meet his infant son, His virgin daughter, and long faithful spouse, And kiss away all tears, but those of joy.

Now, let the ardent lover clasp his fair, New flush the red rose in her damask cheek, Light up the glad beam in her rolling eye, And bid all pain and sorrowing be gone.

Oh, happy day--s.h.i.+ne on thou blissful sun, And not one vapour blemish thy career, Till from thy mid-day champaign, wheeling do Thou in the western ocean go to rest.

O happy town--Now let thy buildings smile, Thy streets run down, with silver floods of joy, And from thy temples, loudly, hymn and song Sweep the high arches of resounding Heaven.

Yes, fellow soldiers, let us bend to him Who gave us strength, and confidence of soul, To meet the Battle and fierce iron war, Urg'd on severe by the tyrannic foe, With deadly thunder, and mischievous arms.

To him who with his tempest, bulg'd the deep, And their full hundred war-s.h.i.+ps, on the bay, Chain'd, with his strong wind, to the North-east sh.o.r.e.

The hand of Heaven, is visible in this, And we, O G.o.d, pour forth our souls in praise.

O fellow soldiers, let our off'rings rise, Not in rich hecatombs, of bulls and goats, But in true piety, and light of love, And warm devotion, in the inward part.

Let your festivity be mix'd with thought, And sober judgment, on this grand event.

March on, and take true pleasure to your arms, You all are bridegrooms, to fair joy to-day.

A MILITARY SONG by the ARMY:

_On GENERAL WAs.h.i.+NGTON'S victorious entry into the Town of Boston._

I.

Sons of valour, taste the glories, Of Celestial LIBERTY, Sing a Triumph o'er the Tories Let the pulse of joy beat high.

II.

Heaven this day hath foil'd the many Fallacies of GEORGE their King, Let the echo reach Britan'y, Bid her mountain summits ring.

III.

See yon Navy swell the bosom, Of the late enraged sea, Where e'er they go we shall oppose them, Sons of valour must be free.

IV.

Should they touch at fair RHODE-ISLAND, There to combat with the brave, Driven, from each hill, and high-land, They shall plough the purple wave.