With a longing and love, yet look of despair,

And a pity for me, as she felt the smoke fold her,

And flames reaching far for her glorious hair.

Her sinking steed faltered, his eager ears fell

To and fro and unsteady, and all the neck’s swell

Did subside and recede, and the nerves fell as dead.

Then she saw that my own steed still lorded his head

With a look of delight, for this Paché, you see,

Was her father’s and once at the South Santafee

Had won a whole herd, sweeping everything down