From Cambridge, through the solemn moving night,
With firm determination to be free,
Our fathers came, that this proud shaft might be
Synonymous of liberty and right.
Pale moonbeams strove to cast a languid light,
Upon the patriot band and that true sea,
Which once was bold to brew good English tea.
Scarce hidden by a mask too frail for flight,
Across “The Neck” their fearless footsteps sped,
Ere morning could the sullen east assail
To mingle with her coming joy and dread,
The fierce redoubt and breastwork marked a trail
Of glory, up the path where Honor led,
Those master spirits eager to prevail.

A gallant sight and noble, did it quell,
The squadron swan-like sweeping to and fro,
Upon the Mystic and the Charles? oh, no!
The Britons captive to the subtle spell
Yet read the meaning of its signal well.
When from the “Lively” came a sudden glow,
Then swift the leaden hail fell blow on blow,
Gage, governor, commander, heard the knell
Of that first warning boom and wounded pride
Spoke in his wrathful face, his hurried gait,
As gazing o’er the smoothly flowing tide
He felt his own wise plan had come too late;
But on an easy conquest still relied
To claim those frowning heights, the town, the state.