----------------------------I have marshalled my men, Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one. They are true to the last, of their blood and their breath; And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. Many a trumpet sounded forth the bold advance, and many a drum beat to arms, and full many a heart throbbed high, upon the morning of the ever memorable first of July, 1690. Then burst forth the signal-gun that loudly pealed forth the approach of day, re-echoed by the woods and waters of the Boyne. This signal was to announce to the troops of the Prince of Orange instantly to commence their march as soon as summoned by the cannon's roar. Their march was about three miles distant …
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