Classic Poem

IN THE WHIM OF THE MOMENT .

Arm'd with jav'lin, arm'd with dart,
With mighty arm and steady heart,
We to the battle go;
Yet, 'ere we part;
We join with all our friends so dear,
And servent adoration pay
To the bright orb that give us day.

Then, void of fear,
We rush to meet the soe:
Station'd on impervious ground,
We watch their numbers seat'er'd round;
The subtle ambush then prepare,
And see they fall into the share!
Hid as in the woods we lay,
They tread the unsuspected way;
Sudden and fierce from ever, bush,
Upon the astonish'd foe we rush,
Bold and resolve!: — and now around,
Hark! the dreadful war-whoop lound,
Confusion, terror, and dismay,
It scatters as it wing, its way:

They fly! confusion in their train,
And slaughter treads the languine plain!
Hark of our friends the welcome cry,
Proclaims for us the victory!

Then fervent adoration pay
To the bright orb that gave us day.

See the festive train advance,
Breathe the music, lead the dance!
Sound the cymbals!
Beat the tymbals!
Haste, in glad procession come
To our anxious friends at home,
For our reception who prepare,
While acclamations rend the air,
And loudly a whole nation cry
Honour, glory, victory.