Molly Pitcher
'T was hurry and scurry at Monmouth town,
For Lee was beating a wild retreat;
The British were riding the Yankees down,
And panic was pressing on flying feet.
Galloping down like a hurricane
Washington rode with his sword swung high,
Mighty as he of the Trojan plain
Fired by a courage from the sky.
“Halt, and stand to your guns!” he cried.
And a bombardier made swift reply.
Wheeling his cannon into the tide,
He fell 'neath the shot of a foeman nigh.
Molly Pitcher sprang to his side,
Fired as she saw her husband do.
Telling the king in his stubborn pride
Women like men to their homes are true.
Washington rode from the bloody fray
Up to the gun that a woman manned.
“Molly Pitcher, you saved the day,”
He said, as he gave her a hero's hand.
He named her sergeant with manly praise,
While her war-brown face was wet with tears—
A woman has ever a woman's ways,
And the army was wild with cheers.
For Lee was beating a wild retreat;
The British were riding the Yankees down,
And panic was pressing on flying feet.
Galloping down like a hurricane
Washington rode with his sword swung high,
Mighty as he of the Trojan plain
Fired by a courage from the sky.
“Halt, and stand to your guns!” he cried.
And a bombardier made swift reply.
Wheeling his cannon into the tide,
He fell 'neath the shot of a foeman nigh.
Molly Pitcher sprang to his side,
Fired as she saw her husband do.
Telling the king in his stubborn pride
Women like men to their homes are true.
Washington rode from the bloody fray
Up to the gun that a woman manned.
“Molly Pitcher, you saved the day,”
He said, as he gave her a hero's hand.
He named her sergeant with manly praise,
While her war-brown face was wet with tears—
A woman has ever a woman's ways,
And the army was wild with cheers.
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