Classic Poem

They were singing “Yankee Doodle”
In the very mouth of hell,
Where bullets whizzed and cannons belched
Their deadly fire of shell.

They sang it with the ardor
That General Gates' brave men
Sang it to Burgoyne's army
At Saratoga, when

Burgoyne's men—well trained regulars—
Had had enough of fight
And mixing-up with Yankees
On Saratoga Height.

They sang it while their comrades fell,
And while their comrades' blood
O'er San Juan's sloping sunlit hill
Flowed down, a crimson flood.

They sang it, still they sang it
Until the height they attained;
Till they took the guarded block-house,
And the victory was gained.