But where the sheeted flames thro Charlestown roar, And lashing waves hiss round the burning shore, Thro the deep folding fires dread Bunker's height Thunders o'er all and shows a field of fight. Like nightly shadows thro a flaming grove, To the dark fray the closing squadrons move; They join, they break, they thicken thro the glare, And blazing batteries burst along the war; Now wrapt in reddening smoke, now dim in sight, They rake the hill, or wing the downward flight; Here, wheel'd and wedged, Britannia's veterans turn, And the long lightnings from their muskets burn; There scattering strive the thin colonial train, Whose broken platoons still the field maintain; Till Britain's fresh battalions rise the height, And with increasing vollies give the fight. When, choked with dust, discolor'd deep in gore, And gall'd on all sides from the ships and shore, Hesperia's host moves off the field afar, And saves, by slow retreat, the sad remains of war. There strides bold Putnam, and from all the plains Calls the tired troops, the tardy rear sustains, And, mid the whizzing balls that skim the lowe, Waves back his sword, defies the following foe. In this prime prelude of the toil that waits The nascent glories of his infant states, Columbus mourn'd the slain. A numerous crowd, Half of each host, had bought their fame with blood; From the whole hill he saw the lifestream pour, And sloping pathways trod with tracks of gore. Here, glorious Warren, thy cold earth was seen, Here spring thy laurels in immortal green; Dearest of chiefs that ever prest the plain, In freedom's cause with early honors slain; Still dear in death, as when before our sight You graced the senate, or you led the fight. The grateful Muse shall tell the world your fame, And unborn realms resound the deathless name. Now from all plains, as settling smokes decay, The banded freemen rise in open day; Tall thro the lessening shadows, half conceal'd, They throng and gather in a central field; In unskill'd ranks but ardent soul they stand, Claim quick the foe, and eager strife demand. In front firm Washington superior shone, His eye directed to the half-seen sun; As thro the cloud the bursting splendors glow, And light the passage to the distant foe. His waving steel returns the living day, And points, thro unfought fields, the warrior's way; His valorous deeds to be confined no more, Monongahela, to thy desert shore. Matured with years, with nobler glory warm, Fate in his eye and empire on his arm, He feels his sword the strength of nations wield, And moves before them with a broader shield.