free-verse42 lines

The Defence Of The Alamo

Santa Ana came storming, as a storm might come;

There was rumble of cannon; there was rattle of blade;

There was cavalry, infantry, bugle and drum

Full seven thousand in pomp and parade.

The chivalry, flower of Mexico;

And a gaunt two hundred in the Alamo!

And thirty lay sick, and some were shot through;

For the siege had been bitter, and bloody, and long.

'Surrender, or die!' 'Men, what will you do?'

And Travis, great Travis, drew sword, quick and strong;

Drew a line at his feet. . . . 'Will you come' Will you go?

I die with my wounded, in the Alamo.'

Then Bowie gasped, 'Lead me over that line!'

Then Crockett, one hand to the sick, one hand to his gun,

Crossed with him; then never a word or a sign

Till all, sick or well, all, all save but one,

One man. Then a woman stepped, praying, and slow

Across; to die at her post in the Alamo.

Then that one coward fled, in the night, in that night

When all men silently prayed and thought

Of home; of to-morrow; of God and the right,

Till dawn; and with dawn came Travis's cannon-shot,

In answer to insolent Mexico,

From the old bell-tower of the Alamo.

Then came Santa Ana; 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 Spartan 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;

And she but a nurse. Yet when shall we know

Another like this of the Alamo?

Shout 'Victory, victory, victory ho!'

I say 'tis not always to the hosts that win!

I say that the victory, high or low,

Is given the hero who grapples with sin,

Or legion or single; just asking to know

When duty fronts death in his Alamo.