Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/182

 Ah, merry rang the wedding bells—
 * And many were the guests that came,

And gathered round the festive board
 * Were not a few of noble name.

The first few years they lived in peace,
 * As well befits a married pair,

Then John of Lichtenstein grew cold,
 * And left his wife to her despair.

The devil jealousy took room
 * Within his heart, and he would fain

Have walled his wife within her room,
 * So burning was his jealous pain.

They lived indeed a dreadful life,
 * Which every day grew worse and worse.

He kept her like the meanest born,
 * Without a home, without a purse.

For years she bore her wretched lot.
 * And wifelike tried to smile through tears,

Till life became to her a hell.
 * And death for her lost all its fears.

At length endurance had an end,
 * Ill-treatment drove her from her home;

She left her lord, and fled at night,
 * To her old childhood’s home alone.

Her brother took her, eased her pain,
 * And would have played the kinsman’s part,

Made peace—or dueled with her lord,
 * And stabbed him through his wicked heart,

But Bertha said, “Let him alone—
 * God may forgive him, but not I.

Since I am safe with you at home,
 * Oh, wherefore, brother, should he die?”

Long years she lived with him in peace,
 * There where her childish feet had strayed.

Was mother to his orphaned brood,
 * When he in his low grave was laid.

Her time she passed in works of love,
 * The naked clothed, the poor one fed,

Was loved and honored through the land,
 * And blessings fell upon her head,

So years passed on, her husband died;
 * But unforgiving still, she said,

God may forgive him, but not I.
 * ’Tis well indeed that he is dead.”