Turned this up in Google Books:<blockquote>The musket gripp'd ; the brow firm set ; a scowlful smile of joy; And shoulder square by shoulder, as of old at Fontenoy : — Up ! where the battery-flash the heaven with battle-thunder stuns, Where the swarthy cannoneers of France yet prime and point their guns, Then on them with that levell'd steel, one charge . . . Too late ! ... the breath Of war's red throat across the field has borne a waft of death.</blockquote>“The Death of Sir John Moore”, 1809, from The Visions of England by Francis Turner Palgrave.