Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/101

 The banner would have sunk now,
 * Had not the fearless youth

Caught it in his strong left hand,
 * And held it high in truth.

A lion was the stripling
 * In bravery; to and fro

One saw the banner waving
 * Like forest tree, I trow.

Zvikoš’ men are charging—
 * One comes behind the lad,

With mighty spear he strikes him;
 * His blood is running sad;

The left hand now is shattered,
 * The flag with blood is red—

His pale lips caught the banner—
 * The horse turned round and fled.

Fled onward to the castle,
 * And there the youth fell dead;

His pale lips held the banner
 * The noble soul had fled.

The maiden on the turret,
 * Like stricken doe, runs down,

She looks upon her lover,
 * Then dead she too falls down.

The plain is green with grasses,
 * A mighty tree stands bare;

The lightning struck it often,
 * For ages it stood there.

The castle is a ruin—
 * It frowns down from the hill,

But the memory of the youth
 * Lives in Bohemia still.