Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/114



HERE Tatar mountains to the skies Above all pine-clad hills arise, Where Visla’s streams are roll’d; There finds the mountain-region place, The cradle of the Czeskish race, Thence came the Czechs of old.

They’ve cross’d three rivers on their road, An eagle shew’d the will of God, Up to the hills their guide; While he on high doth hovering go Leads Czech the people down below, Where the green plain is wide.

He westward with the sun doth go, When soft Šumawa’s breezes blow, To Labe’s streams they come; Amidst the land he stands and calls, He kneels, the tear in gladness falls, He kisses the new home.

Calls to his brethren “Woodlands clear, Make ploughs, and gardens soon appear,