SCENE VI Bunkers-Hill. Gardiner, to the American Army. Unmans the spirit and strikes down the soul. Be bloody to their host! GOD is our Aid: Give, then, full scope to just revenge this day! 5 ΙΟ 15 SCENE VII The Bay-Shore. The British Army once more repuls'd, Howe again rallies his flying Troops. Howe. But that so many mouths can witness it, I would deny myself an Englishman, And swear this day that with such cowardice No kindred or alliance has my birth. Oh base degen❜rate souls, whose ancestors 5 ΙΟ 15 Let some brave officers stand on the rear, 20 SCENE VIII Bunkers-Hill. Gardiner desperately wounded and borne from the field by two Soldiers. Gardiner. A musket-ball, death-wing'd, hath pierc'd my groin And widely op'd the swift curr'nt of my veins. Bear me, then, Soldiers, to that hollow space A surgeon there may stop the gushing wound 5 SCENE IX Putnam, to the American Army. Swift-rising fame on early wing mounts up To the convexity of bending Heaven, And writes each name who fought with us this day The world shall read it and still talk of us 5 Who, far out-number'd, twice drove back the foe, With carnage horrid, murm'ring to their ships. The Ghost of WARREN says "Enough!" I see One thousand veterans mingled with the dust. Now for our sacred honour, and the wound ΙΟ Which Gard'ner feels, once more we charge! once more, With hecatombs of slain! Let every piece Flash like the fierce-consuming fire of Heaven, And make the smoke in which they wrap themselves 15 'A darkness visible." Now once again Receive the battle, as a shore of rock The ocean wave! And if at last we yield, SCENE X AND LAST 20 Bunkers-Hill. The American Army, overpower'd by numbers, are obliged Enter Howe, Pigot, and Clinton with the British Army. to retreat. Richardson, a young Officer, cn the Parapet. The day is ours! huzza, the day is ours! This last attack has forc'd them to retreat. Clinton. 'T is true, full victory declares for us, But we have dearly, dearly, purchas'd it. Full fifteen hundred of our men lie dead, Who, with their officers, do swell the list Of this day's carnage. On the well-fought hill Whole ranks, cut down, lie struggling with their wounds Or close their bright eyes in the shades of night. And fire of Cannon from the hill-top pour'd 5 ΙΟ But heaven itself, with snares and vengeance arm'd 15 And war renew'd by these inveterate, "Till, GARD'NER wounded, the left wing gave way, Drawn off by PUTNAM, to the causeway fled, 20 Nor hath an eye beheld its parallel! Lord Pigot. The day is ours, but with heart-piercing loss Of soldiers slain and gallant officers. Old Abercrombie on the field lies dead, 30 Like the tall fir-trees on the blasted heath, Scorch'd by the autumnal burnings which have rush'd 35 With wasting fire fierce through its leafy groves. Should ev'ry hill, by the rebellious foe So well defended, cost thus dear to us, Could master them and the proud rage subdue Howe. E'en in an enemy I honour worth 40 The sons of Britons, with the genuine flame 45 50 E'en in a foe true worth and noble fortitude. Come, then, brave soldiers, and take up the dead, 55 Enter Burgoyne from Boston. Oft have I read in the historic page Of many a soldier from the chimney-tops Through mourning BRITAIN and HIBERNIA'S Isle. 65 70 The Grecian host, enshrowded in thick flames; And round its margin, to the ebbing wave, JOHN TRUMBULL THE PROGRESS OF DULNESS FROM PART I, OR THE ADVENTURES OF TOM BRAINLESS "Our Tom has grown a sturdy boy: His progress fills my heart with joy; ડ |