Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/182

 hadst a glorious triumph then,

When midst a whole world's envying,

In victory's loud and joyous train,

Thou didst thy golden booty bring,

And on Bohemia's altars fling:

How loudly was the welcome pour'd

From every patriot Českian tongue,

Man—child—youth—maiden—woman flung,

To thee, thy country's son ador'd,

The wreaths their busy hands had strung.

didst thou dip that sacred vvreath,

O Žižka! in thy brothers' blood?

Why bow thee from thy height—beneath,

And turn to evil all thy good?

Why didst thou loose thy savage brood

On monks and nobles—in thy rage

Give reins to riot—overthrow

Castles and towers—and deaf to woe—

Whelm all—and rear o'er all a stage,

Where error and where crime might grow.