We can see the bright steel glancing all along the lines advancing-- Now the front rank fires a volley--they have thrown away their shot; For behind their earthwork lying, all the balls above them flying, Our people need not hurry; so they wait and answer not. 60 Then the Corporal, our old cripple (he would swear sometimes and tipple),-- He had heard the bullets whistle (in the old French war) before,-- Calls out in words of jeering, just as if they all were hearing,-- And his wooden leg thumps fiercely on the dusty belfry floor:-- "Oh! fire away, ye villains, and earn King George's shillin's, 65 But ye'll waste a ton of powder afore a 'rebel' falls; You may bang the dirt and welcome, they're as safe as Dan'l Malcolm[333] Ten foot beneath the gravestone that you've splintered with your balls!" In the hush of expectation, in the awe and trepidation Of the dread approaching moment, we are well-nigh breathless all; 70 Though the rotten bars are failing on the rickety belfry railing, We are crowding up against them like the waves against a wall. Just a glimpse (the air is clearer), they are nearer,--nearer, --nearer, When a flash--a curling smoke-wreath--then a crash--the steeple shakes-- The deadly truce is ended; the tempest's shroud is rended; 75 Like a morning mist is gathered, like a thunder-cloud it breaks! O the sight our eyes discover as the blue-black smoke blows over! The red-coats stretched in windrows as a mower rakes his hay; Here a scarlet heap is lying, there a headlong crowd is flying Like a billow that has broken and is shivered into spray. 80 Then we cried, "The troops are routed! they are beat--it can't be doubted! God be thanked, the fight is over!"--Ah! the grim old soldier's smile! "Tell us, tell us why you look so?" (we could hardly speak we shook so),-- "Are they beaten? _Are_ they beaten? ARE they beaten?"--"Wait a while." O the trembling and the terror! for too soon we saw our error: 85 They are baffled, not defeated; we have driven them back in vain; And the columns that were scattered, round the colors that were tattered, Toward the sullen silent fortress turn their belted breasts again. All at once, as we were gazing, lo! the roofs of Charlestown blazing! They have fired the harmless village; in an hour it will be down! 90 The Lord in Heaven confound them, rain his fire and brimstone round them,-- The robbing, murdering red-coats, that would burn a peaceful town!