Two British forts the growing siege outflank, Rake its wide works and awe the tide-beat bank; Swift from the lines two chosen bands advance, Our light-arm'd scouts, the grenadiers of France; These young Viominil conducts to fame, And those Fayette's unerring guidance claim. No cramm'd cartouch their belted back attires, No grains of sleeping thunder wait their fires; The flint, the ramrod spurn'd, away they cast; The strong bright bayonet, imbeaded fast, Stands beaming from the bore; with this they tread, Nor heed from high-wall'd foes their showers of lead. Each rival band, tho wide and distant far, Springs simultaneous to this task of war; For here a twofold force each hero draws, His own proud country and the general cause; And each with twofold energy contends, His foes to vanquish and outstrip his friends. They summon all their zeal, and wild and warm O'er flaming ramparts pour the maddening storm, The mounted cannons crush, and lead the foe Two trains of captives to the plain below; An equal prize each gallant troop ameeds, Alike their numbers and alike their deeds. A strong high citadel still thundering stood, And stream'd her standard o'er the field of blood, Check'd long the siege with fulminating blare, Scorn'd all the steel and every globe of war, Defied fell famine, heapt her growing store, And housed in bombproof all the host she bore. No rude assault can stretch the scale so high, In vain the battering siege-guns round her ply; Mortars well poized their deafening deluge rain, Load the red skies and shake the shores in vain; Her huge rock battlements rebound the blow, And roll their loose crags on the men below.