Under the walls of Monterey br At daybreak the bugles began to play, br Victor Galbraith! br In the mist of the morning damp and gray, br These were the words they seemed to say: br 'Come forth to thy death, br Victor Galbraith!' br br Forth he came, with a martial tread; br Firm was his step, erect his head; br Victor Galbraith, br He who so well the bugle played, br Could not mistake the words it said: br 'Come forth to thy death, br Victor Galbraith!' br br He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky, br He looked at the files of musketry, br Victor Galbraith! br And he said, with a steady voice and eye, br 'Take good aim; I am ready to die!' br Thus challenges death br Victor Galbraith. br br Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red, br Six leaden balls on their errand sped; br Victor Galbraith br Falls to the ground, but he is not dead; br His name was not stamped on those balls of lead, br And they only scath br Victor Galbraith. br br Three balls are in his breast and brain, br But he rises out of the dust again, br Victor Galbraith! br The water he drinks has a bloody stain; br 'O kill me, and put me out of my pain!' br In his agony prayeth br Victor Galbraith.