O'er town, and works, and waves amain
Far fell grim Ruin's furious rain,
O'er parapet and mast,
And riding on the thunder-swell
Far flew the shot, far flew the shell
Red Havoc on the blast!
Then as the flashing cannon sowed
Their iron crop brave Nelson rode,
His bridle bit all foam,
Up to the gunners, and said he:
“Batter yon mansion down for me” —
“Basement, and walls, and dome!”
And better to sharpen those gunners’ wits,
“Five guineas,” he cried, “for each shot that hits!” —
That mansion was his home!