ON Christmas-day in seventy-six, | |
| Our ragged troops, with bayonets fixed, | |
| For Trenton marched away. | |
| The Delaware see! the boats below! | |
| The light obscured by hail and snow! | 5 |
| But no signs of dismay. | |
| |
| Our object was the Hessian band, | |
| That dared invade fair freedom’s land. | |
| And quarter in that place. | |
| Great Washington he led us on, | 10 |
| Whose streaming flag, in storm or sun, | |
| Had never known disgrace. | |
| |
| In silent march we passed the night, | |
| Each soldier panting for the fight, | |
| Though quite benumbed with frost. | 15 |
| Greene on the left at six began, | |
| The right was led by Sullivan, | |
| Who ne’er a moment lost. | |
| |
| Their pickets stormed, the alarm was spread, | |
| That rebels risen from the dead, | 20 |
| Were marching into town. | |
| Some scampered here, some scampered there, | |
| And some for action did prepare; | |
| But soon their arms laid down. | |
| |
| Twelve hundred servile miscreants, | 25 |
| With all their colors, guns and tents, | |
| Were trophies of the day. | |
| The frolic o’er, the bright canteen, | |
| In centre, front, and rear was seen | |
| Driving fatigue away. | 30 |
| |
| Now, brothers of the patriot bands, | |
| Let’s sing deliverance from the hands | |
| Of arbitrary sway. | |
| And as our life is but a span, | |
| Let’s touch the tankard while we can, | 35 |
| In memory of that day. | |
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