Page:The Fall of the Alamo.djvu/122

 Of gloomy care that weighs upon my heart. The convict in his cell may close his eyes, The murderer, doomed to expiate his crime, May sleep away the night, that is his last; The usurer upon his downy pillow May rest in slumber like an honest man,— While the defender of his country's freedom, The victor of to-day, craves all in vain The boon of sleep upon his heavy heart. And may not my resolve, my steadfastness Prove after all a useless sacrifice? What has the blood of all the noble Poles Accomplished but to rivet closer still The fettering shackles of their fatherland? And may not here the ecstasy of freedom Die out as quickly as it first arose, A fire of straw, extinguished by a shower? Or else, may not the despot's energy, His skill, his wealth, his overwhelming numbers. Become triumphant over patriotism. However deeply it inspire the Texans? For what then sacrifice those faithful men Who, fathers, brothers and beloved sons. Will long, ah! long be missed with tears at home? For what endanger then my brother's life, Whose loss will blight my mother's peace for aye? For what then mar the tender blossom's bloom Which at my death will droop her head and fade?