Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/36

 That the Bohemian nation rose,
 * Without a fear, to do His will;

They were content for Him to die,
 * And for their land their blood to spill.

The royalists were beaten hard;
 * They fled before the Hussite band.

Once more one heard the Hussite song
 * Resound through the Bohemian land.

One morning in the distant west
 * A warrior came, of features cold;

He begged to be allowed to fight;
 * He said he was a warrior bold.

He spake they “were a godless set,”
 * Those royalists from where he came,

And offered to show Dalibor
 * A way to victory, and to fame.

They were to steal away at night
 * Along a path that he would show;

Thus easily the royal band
 * They could strike down with one quick blow.

Alas! alas! that Dalibor
 * Did listen to that lying tongue;

Ah me! he led them all to death,
 * And dungeon cell, as bards have sung;

And Dalibor was led in chains,
 * And shut in Hradčan’s dismal tower.

Oft by the loophole he would sit,
 * Unconscious of the passing hour.

One day he said, “Oh, jailer mine,
 * Thou seest I will soon be dead;

I pray thee by thy father’s ghost,
 * I pray thee by thy blessed dead;

Oh, give me but a violin,
 * That I may ease my breaking heart.

It cannot harm thee, jailer mine,
 * And it will soothe my bitter part.”

The jailer was a kindly man,
 * He let the prisoner have his way;

And all night long, poor Dalibor
 * Upon his instrument did play.