Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/113



MY country, let thy son Mourn his mother’s breast upon! Wrongful brethren cause my woe; Crying, there’s no warmth to me In the inmost heart for thee— O my country, thou dost know!

If, when night is calm and still, Secret tears mine eyes o’erfill, If they on thy bosom flow; If my lot I’d cast with thee, Sharing joy and woe with thee, O my country, thou dost know!

What the youth in fancy roving, What the man in transport loving, Swore and swears again to do,— Mother, if to thee I’d bring Life and all in offering— O my country, thou dost know!

If I from my word depart, If the gushings of my heart For another ever flow; If, when life is leaving me, Thou my last last cry wilt be, O my country, thou dost know.