Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/110



S dawns the morning twilight gray, The bell proclaims the festal day Of faithful spirits fled; The churchward path doth Hanna seek, The tender tear bedews her cheek, Her own lov’d Jan is dead.

And there where he had stood intent, With looks of love upon her bent, She mourns in secret meek; Her hands are clasp’d, upcast her eyes, Glist’ning with tears, towards the skies, Her mute lips seem to speak.

But when the people hymns of praise To God for parted spirits raise, And “Rest in peace” resounds, Sends Hanna too her voice above, The Father of eternal love, She knows, will heal her wounds.