Chapter 15: Goliad | 记住阿拉莫

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["How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes bless'd? By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung. There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there."]

["How shall we rank thee upon glory's page? Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage."]

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Chapter 15: Goliad
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