Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/94

90 :Haunt the dim mist of decay, uttering cries of lament. Uttering cries of lament that Fortune relentless continues,
 * Letting their grandsons' blood either decay or be changed;

Coldly in sooth would beat the heart of a man for his nation,
 * If he would shed no tears here, even as o'er his love's bones.

Ah, but be silent, O grief, serenely beholding the future,
 * Scatter with eye like the sun thoughts that arose in a cloud.

Greatest of evils it is, in misfortune to wrangle with evil,
 * He who assuages by deeds anger of heaven does best.

Not from a troubled eye springs hope, but from hands that are active,
 * Thus, and thus only, can now evil be turned into good.

Only the man but not mankind can stray on the journey,
 * Oft the confusion of some favours the rest as a whole.

Time changes all, and by time is truth to victory guided,
 * What in their error the years planned in a day is o'erthrown.

"" (1824).