Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/49

 When they first began their tolling
 * For the poor lad’s soul,

Back they started in wild horror,
 * Says the legend old.

For it was no bell of silver,
 * But a human cry,

Echoing in their ears bewildered,
 * Like a human sigh:

John, John, sacrificed John.”

And the lord of Kozojedy
 * Hearing, turned to stone.

Then he tore his rich robes from him,
 * While his heart did groan.

Bring me now the hair-cloth garments
 * Of a penitent;

I shall be from henceforth ringer, Till my life be spent.”

Strange to say, the bitter anguish,
 * And the endless pain,

That had made his life a burden,
 * Passed away like rain;

And the bell rang out in gladness,
 * In the morning air:

Rang out like a seraph singing
 * In the trembling air.

Once, long after from the ringing,
 * Never home came he;

But they found him by the tower,
 * From his penance free.

On his face a heavenly rapture
 * To the world did say,

That his sins, however dreadful,
 * Had been done away.

Years passed by, war with its horrors
 * Broke o’er the Bohemian land.

Down went chapel, down went tower,
 * Leveled by the robber band.