Keith, This poem which I was taught at school, a long time ago, always fascinated me.
I do remember clearly the third verse,

All,all asleep within each roof along that rocky street

and these must be the lover`s friends, with gently gliding feet-

A stifled gasp,a dreamy noise!"the roof is in a flame"

From out their beds and to their doors rush maid and sire and dame,

And meet upon the threshold stone the gleaming sabre`s fall,

and o`er each black and bearded face the white or crimson shawl.

The yell of "Allah" breaks above the the prayer, and shriek and roar,
O blessed God the Algerine is lord of Baltimore.

And it goes on and on, something like eight verses, the Author was Thomas Davis. Ard Mhacha