Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/109

Rh

Their peaks in proud and gloomy wise 'Mid solemn stillness to the skies
 * The Cheskian hills in distant haze
 * Northward raise.

Hark! from their depths what sounds arise.

No shepherds loom upon the sight By sheep-folds, and no sound takes flight
 * Of angels' harps, and angels' singing:
 * 'Mid the bells ringing

Seethes Cheskian blood that loves the right.

But thou hear'st, the stillness rending, The gloomy thunder-pea! ascending.
 * The smiths are speeding, and they fashion
 * The mighty passion

Of slayers proud, the breach defending.

Thou hear'st the sound of metals roaring, Sparks are singing, sparks are soaring;
 * Renown he whets in skilful toil
 * With keen-edged foil,

Who for the golden fleece is warring.

In youthful strength from depths of hills He rises 'mid our strife and ills;
 * 'Neath clouds o'er earth the flashes dart,
 * Within each heart,

Melts, at his gaze, the crust that chills.