Monterey

We wore not many - we who stood Before the iron sleet that day; Yet many a gallant 8pirit would Give half his years if but he could Have been with ua at Monterey. Now here, now there, the shot it hailed In deadly drifts of flory spray, Yet not a single soldier quailed When wounded coinrades round them wailed Their dying shouts at Monterey. And on- still on our colnmn kept Through walls of flamo its withering way; Where feil the dead, the living stept, Still charging on the guns which swept The slippery streets of Monterey. The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay. We swooped his flanking batterles past. And braving full their murderous Mast Stormed home the towers of Monterey. Our banners on those turrets wave. And there our evening bugles play; Where orange boughs above their grave Keep green the memory of the brave Who f ought and feil at Monterey. We are not many- we who pressed Beside the brave who feil that day: But who of us has not confesscd He'd rather share their warrior reet Than not have been at Monterey?