Had I but had the time to spare for them),
Between the father and his handsome daughter.
Upon her knees she weepingly besought him
To leave our banner and to flee with her
To what she deigned to call a port, although
In my geography it lies remote
From any ocean's coast—
Santa Anna.
What was the port she meant!
Prado.
Since her sojourn in this vicinity,
When here she passed her tender childhood's years,
She knows a subterranean passage-way
That leads from here into the Alamo!
Santa Anna.
So it is true, what once an aged Padre
In Mexico has told me! would the man
Could guide us now!—But then we have a guide.
But tell me ! was it said in that converse
Where lies the entrance to that gallery?
Prado.
Nought, nought was said about that: they deferred
