Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/82

 When from the battle I come back, Our love will blossom without lack.
 * Till then I bid thee diligent be:
 * Spin thy flax, and keep thinking of me,
 * As you spin the linen thread.”

And in the forest dark and drear, How sleeps the maid, I want to hear.
 * From out six wounds her blood is gushing,
 * And nought to still its awful rushing,
 * As she lay on the emerald moss.

Gladly she went to meet her fate— Now death is near her—it is late.
 * Her body’s cooling her blood is set—
 * Yes, even the ground with blood is wet,
 * Alas, that you saw the king!

Behind a rock an old man came, One could not tell from where he came;
 * His long gray beard hung below his knees;
 * He took up the murdered maid with ease,
 * And carried her to his cell.

Get up, my lad, the need is great— Take the gold spinning-wheel of fate;
 * In the king’s palace they will buy it;
 * But hear: Only for feet I sell it,
 * No other pay will answer.”

The lad jumped on his fiery steed, The spinning-wheel he held with heed.
 * Who buys?“ he called at the castle gate,
 * Who would buy a spinning-wheel of fate,
 * Of purest gold, I warrant?”

Go, my mother, and ask the price, The spinning-wheel is strong and nice.”
 * Buy it, my lady! It is not dear—
 * My father is cheap—you need not fear,
 * For two feet he will give it.”