And, following our bold leader's shout,

We put the pickets oft to rout, Oft trampling down a scouting list,

And oft upon the foeman's flanks We dealt the blow their startled

ranks

Scarce knew where to resist.

"For hours we sailed from rear to front,

And down their side, from front to

rear:

Death and confusion paid the brunt
Wherever we came near.

Anon was heard the opening roar
Which called us to the bristling shore;
And now the fearful scene was won
Where deadly gun replied to gun,
And pistol answered pistol flash,
And then the fiery, sudden dash

Of hand to hand, and sword to While in the stream, with plunge sword, and splash,

Though thrice our number on us poured,

We dealt the thick foe crash for crash, And strove to hold the ford.

"Now was the time you should have

seen

Bold Ringbolt with his towering mien;

Have heard his voice, have seen his blow

Which drove the heavy weapon home,

Each stroke of which unhorsed a foe, And sent him reeling red below,

'Mid trampled waters crushed to

foam.

But, oh, it would have touched your pride

Could you have seen at Ringbolt's side Our standard-bearer, young and bold,

Fighting and grasping in his hold The banner whose unsullied fold The foeman's rage defied!

"But, sad to see, and sad to tell,
Brave Ugo's horse beneath him fell,
The banner-boy went down.
A moment,-shall the horses' tread
Deal death upon his struggling head?
A moment, shall he drown?

"No arm with that great arm could cope,

Whether or foot or fiery horse;
But now, as with a tiger's force
When battling to protect its young,
Upon his steed again he sprung,
While in his hold the boy still
hung,

And grasping, as with grip of
death,

The reins between his angry teeth, To give his right arm clearing scope, There still his blade of battle swung, And on the pressing foemen flung The blow that to the invaders rung The knell of many a hero's hope.

"At last the overwhelming tide

Of foemen pressed us slowly back; We did not turn, we did not slack Our heavy blows, or ever flinch, But, slowly backing, inch by inch, We gained the other side.

But now was heard the roaring din Of Wayne's artillery pouring in ; And while its iron torrent flowed,

Leaving the foe enough to do, Along the highway we withdrew, To breathe a little, and reload.

"When Ugo wakened from his swoon, Gathering his scattered senses soon,

He sought the banner of his pride; He looked through all the busy band,

And stared upon his empty hand,

Then cast his eagle glances wide. 'Oh, death! oh, infamy!' he cried: He saw it on the other side, Beneath the invader's standard tied, Heavily hanging, wet and tame, Weeping as 'twere in grief and shame.

But when the veiling cloud went by,

We knew the face and flashing eye
Of Nora, and we heard her cry

Of warning in that hour of need :—

"Speed, Ringbolt, to your leader speed!

And bid him know the stealthy foe With double strength comes up behind:

It was but now I saw him wind
From out the valley road below.'

"She ceased: a short and sudden

scream

Escaped her breast; across the stream, Far piercing through the veil of haze,

Her fierce eyes sent their staring gaze,

And, following that stare, we saw,
With soul of wonder and of awe,
Where Porter and bold Porterfield

Renewed the struggle at the ford;
And at the moment when the sword

Swayed in the balance where to yield,

In middle of the mad mêlée Young Ugo snatch his flag away, Leap from the hot, opposing shore,

The banner tied about his waist, And in the flood plunge fiercely o'er, By a hundred whistling bullets chased,

And soon, with wild ecstatic hand, He waved it 'mid our shouting band.

His head upon her knee she nursed, And held unto his fainting lip

The can he scarce had strength to sip.

A few swift leaps, we gained the place.
Oh, be the hireling doubly cursed
Who caused that noble breast to
groan!

It was my father's upturned face
Which looked into my own.

"Nay, son,' he faintly sighed, the while

His features wore a struggling smile,
Be not dismayed, 'twill pass anon:
'Tis but a little loss of blood:
I am content: my hand has done

On many a foeman work as good; And some, methinks, will never tell Beneath what old man's sword they fell.

But bear me hence: this trifling wound-'

Through all the realm of elm and oak The blue wreaths of their pipes increase:

Alas! the calumets they smoke
Are not the sacred pipes of peace!

They plan around their council-fire
The ambush on to-morrow's track;
They do but wait their warrior-sire
To give the signal of attack.

The smile upon his lip to-day,
The dream-light in his plotting eye,
Are but prophetic signs to say

How fierce the arrow-storm shall fly.

Thus Esther mused, as from her tower She gazed o'er misty stream and land:

She knew 'twas but War's breathinghour

Ere he again, in all his power,

Should wave his flashing battlebrand.

Even there, beneath her very gaze, The invader's bristling lines were spread,

Wrapt in the calm October haze,

And, like the Indian autumn, red. From Delaware their scarlet ranks Reached even to the Schuylkill banks, So near the very mansion-wall Echoed the frequent bugle-call,— A sight to make a young heart sad,

And all her patriot hopes destroy,While Berkley's loyal breast was mad With uncontrolled bursts of joy.

He gave the invaders every proof How much his wishes with them lay:

Their flag was waving on his roof, His halls received them night and day;

He even broached his buried store, And brought a dozen hampers out, Willing with generous hand to pour, Repaid by loyal song and shout.

But one there was whose bowing plume

Was chiefly welcome to Sir Hugh, And once before that banquet-room Had felt his presence through and through,

Anon she saw some warrior-form,
Like the great genii of the storm,
Rise into shadowy giant height,
And then another of equal might,
And now the followers swung in
sight,

Wielding great arms,-as oak with oak

Were battling in the hill-side smoke;
Or armies of the infernal god,
With lightning and with thunder
shod,

Were wielding their gigantic blades
Against the crests of kindred shades;
Or, rather, as some pale, strange light
Were shining on some unseen fight,
And these the shadows fierce and tall
It threw upon a cold gray wall,
Struggling in many a rise and fall.