Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/87

 The heads hang down without the eyes, The hands and feet are cut likewise.
 * In the forest dark, they met their fate,
 * Where they killed the maid they met their fate,
 * The death they made her suffer.

And what of the gold spinning wheel? Its song was done that golden wheel
 * Sang but three times that miserable lay,
 * Then, strange to say, it vanished away.
 * But where no man can tell you.