The sun arose, and still we marched, I somewhat in advance, A voice cried, “Wer da? Halt!” I saw a musket-barrel glance. “A friend,” I answered. “Freund von wem?” “A friend to Washington!” The sentry fired and missed, and ran and cast away his gun; For now behind me, pressing on, he saw our troops were near, And in the distance on our left I heard Greene’s forces cheer. “Move faster there!” cried Sullivan, “or Greene will get ahead. Press on and use your steel, my men; we have no need of lead.” And on they rushed, I with the rest; through Water Street we swept, While from a few upon our front some scattered bullets leapt. Their outguard fled in sore affright, and one there dying lay, His loaded musket by his side—his work was done that day. I saw the Hessian soldiers that were forming into rank; I saw their mounted officers—could hear the scabbards clank, As hither, thither, riding round, they drove their men in line; And through them all, from each to each, went eager glance of mine, Till in their very centre there I saw one on his horse, His orders coolly giving, the commander of their force. I knew him! I could not forget! ’Twas he whose angry blow Had smote my darling to the death; he should not ’scape me so. I cast my plain coat to the ground. “Quaker, lie there!” said I. “Yon is the son of Amalek! I’ll smite him hip and thigh!” And from the ground that musket caught, and o’er its barrel drew A bead as fine as a needle’s point: the ball his breast went through. The musket dropped from out my hands—a fellow man I’d slain; My heart stood still, but presently I was myself again. I leaned against a tree. A sound of cannon smote my ear, A rattling fire of musketry, then silence, then a cheer. I knew they had surrendered. Well, what if the place were won? I turned and wandered to my home; my errand had been done. When Friends would have disowned me as a man of blood and sin, Friend Scudder spake—you might have heard the falling of a pin— “God knows His own wise purposes; who’d scan His ways must fail. Who gave the Israelitish dame the hammer and the nail, His wrath has fallen on bloody Rahl, on Sisera laid low; And Reuben Comfort did God’s work. In peace then let him go.” Loud weeping on the women’s side, and sobs on ours that day; And no one there gainsaid his words, and no one uttered nay. The brethren came and pressed my hand before I left the place, And all the women, as I passed, looked pitying in my face. So I went forth of man forgiven. I pray that God may be, When sitting in the latter day, as merciful to me. [Illustration: SUBSEQUENT OPERATIONS.] _FOLLOWING THE OPERATIONS AT TRENTON._