With lip contemptuous curling,
She cried, “Is freedom's flag above
Fold on fold unfurling,
And Patrick pleading love?
Oh! yes, when patriots hand in hand
Unite to free their foster-land
From slavery's accursed band,
What true man woos a woman!
Then with my bitter scorning
Go, live dishonoured, die a slave,
Or march to-morrow morning
To battle with the brave.”

“We'll steal a march on sorrow,”
Our Captain sighed, a soldier grey,
“Sound the drum to-morrow
Before the dawn of day.”
But ere the drum's first muffled beat
The women crowded down the street,
How many never more to meet
Their death-devoted heroes.
Then as I passed her dwelling,
My proud one o'er her casement frame,
The sobs her bosom swelling,
Leant forth and sighed my name.

Oh! have you seen Atlantic
Advance his green, resistless line
Against the cliffs gigantic,
And bury them in brine?
Thus on our stubborn foe we fell,
Death's lightning darting from our steel,
Whilst round us every cannon peal
A hero's requiem thundered!
And still with forward faces
Went down in death our dauntless men,
And still into their places
As gallant hearts stepped in.

Till to a sunburst glorious,
That all the field of battle fired,
Before our van victorious
The sullen South retired.
Then peace returned, and from the war
Our banner bright with many a star
'Twas mine to flutter from afar
In triumph to our city;
Till I at last could wreathe it
Around my true love's throbbing heart,
And we two kissed beneath it,
Oh! never more to part.