WHAT a charming thing's a battle! Trumpets sounding, drums a-beating; Crack, crick, crack, the cannons rattle, Every heart with joy elating. With what pleasure are we spying, From the front and from the rear, Round us in the smoky air, Heads and limbs and bullets flying! Then the groans of soldiers dying, Just like sparrows as it were: At each pop, Hundreds drop, While the muskets prittle prattle. Killed and wounded Lie confounded: What a charming thing's a battle! But the pleasant joke of all Is when to close attack we fall, Like mad bulls each other butting, Shooting, stabbing, maiming, cutting; Horse and foot All go to't, Kill's the word, both men and cattle, Then to plunder: Blood and thunder, What a charming thing's a battle! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 41 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SHADOWS by FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN THE LATTICE AT SUNRISE by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER BOTHWELL: PART 6 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN LINES TO MR. WYNCH ON HIS FORTH-FIFTH BIRTHDAY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |