And like a helpless, storm-tossed wreck
Swept down the hill and o'er the neck;
Across the isthmus where the blight
Of cannon shot fell left and right,
And from each crowded roof and spire
Went up a groan prolonged and dire.
Ah! do not call this fight defeat,
A victory oft crowns retreat.
'Tis not the battle lost or won,
It is the deed that they have done.
That they have dared to do this thing
Against a kingdom and a king
Is in itself a victory
That shall resound from sea to sea;
A host shall rise when they shall hear
How these have fought and perished here,
And tyranny shall smitten lie
Because these men have dared to die;
And not one atom of the cost
In human life shall e'er be lost.
The birds will tell it to the breeze,
And it will waft it o'er the seas;
In every land, in every tongue,
Where freedom's songs are joyous sung,
Fair eyes will flash and brave hearts thrill
To hear the tale of Bunker Hill.
Swept down the hill and o'er the neck;
Across the isthmus where the blight
Of cannon shot fell left and right,
And from each crowded roof and spire
Went up a groan prolonged and dire.
Ah! do not call this fight defeat,
A victory oft crowns retreat.
'Tis not the battle lost or won,
It is the deed that they have done.
That they have dared to do this thing
Against a kingdom and a king
Is in itself a victory
That shall resound from sea to sea;
A host shall rise when they shall hear
How these have fought and perished here,
And tyranny shall smitten lie
Because these men have dared to die;
And not one atom of the cost
In human life shall e'er be lost.
The birds will tell it to the breeze,
And it will waft it o'er the seas;
In every land, in every tongue,
Where freedom's songs are joyous sung,
Fair eyes will flash and brave hearts thrill
To hear the tale of Bunker Hill.
96
