40 Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask-lie over!
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal life-it is Happiness.
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None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers.
Firm masculine colter it shall be you!
We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water, On our lower-gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire, killing all around and blowing up overhead.
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