On the Attempt made for the Taking the Island-Battery in Boats

Amidst the smiles of providence upon, Besiegers motions on the Isle-Breton, Impatient of delay a Scheme they Form, The Island Fortress forcebly to Storm. This they attempt in darksom glooms of Night With hopes of Conquest er'e the Morning light. Gallic's discovery make, of this Intent, Use utmost Force their Landing to prevent. — A Tragick Scene Ensues — Whilst thus Engag'd in an unequal Strife, Some loss of Limbs sustain, more of their Life, Brains mix'd with Blood & shatter'd Limbs appear, Expiring Cries and Groans assault the Ear. Eyes here affect the hearts of stoutest Mould, Hard to conceive, but harder to behold. Distorted Limbs and mangled Bodies roll In their own Gore, survivers loud Condole, Their Friends dire Exit, and their Fate, less sad Who aim'd at Conquest, Prisoners are made, Here confus'd Noise & Garments roll'd in blood Warriours have found upon the briny Flood, After sharp Conflict what escap'd Retreat: The single Instance of New-Englanders Defeat.