Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/51

 Now raise the Christians walls on high,
 * All in the gloom of night,

And trenches dig around the hill
 * Before the morning light.

When in the east it dawn’d, arose
 * The whole camp of the foe,

The camp, that stretch’d around the hill
 * Farther than eye can go.

Upon their horses swift they crowd,
 * And heads of Christians slain

They hear upon their lances
 * To the tent of Kublay Khan.

Into a single mass collects
 * Itself the multitude,

And towards one side their course they bend,
 * Rushing with onset rude

To storm the hill, loud uttering
 * An all-terrific cry,

That hills and vales resound again
 * And echo fearfully.

Upon the walls the Christians stood,
 * God’s Mother courage gave,

And quick their pliant bows they draw,
 * And fierce their falchions wave;