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Bold Stark would give them only,
A portion of his lead; With half his crew ere sunset,
Baum lay among the dead.
The nineteenth of September,
The morning cool and clear, Brave Gates rode through our army,
Each soldier's heart to cheer; " Burgoyne," he cried, " advances,
But we will never fly; No — rather than surrender,
We'll fight him till we die."
The news was quickly brought us,
The enemy was near, And all along our lines then
There was no signs of fear; It was above Stillwater
We met at noon that day, And every one expected
To see a bloody fray. ■