Poem by John Pierpont

Warren's Address to the American Soldiers, Before the Battle of Bunker Hill

STAND! the ground's your own, my braves!
Will you give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
    Hope ye mercy still? 
What's the mercy despots feel!
Hear it in the battle peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
    Ask it--ye who will.

Fear ye foes who kill for hire!
Will ye to your homes retire?
Look behind you! they're afire!
    And, before you, see 
Who have done it!--From the vale
On they come!--and will ye quail?--
Leaden rain and iron hail
    Let their welcome be!

In the God of battles trust!
Die we may--and die we must:--
But, O, where can dust to dust
    Be consign'd so well, 
As where heaven its dews shall shed
On the martyr'd patriot's bed,
And the rocks shall raise their head,
    Of his deeds to tell!

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