Sketches of America and Americans #226977

Then came Santa Anna; a crescent of flame! Then the red escalade; then the fight hand to hand; Such an unequal fight as never had name Since the Persian hordes butchered that doomed Spar tan band. All day, — all day and all night; and the morning? So slow, Through the battle smoke mantling the Alamo. Now silence! Such silence! Two thousand lay dead In a crescent outside! And within? Not a breath Save the gasp of a woman, with gory gashed head, All alone, all alone there, waiting for death.