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Rh Tremble, Litwini! for the time is near, From Wilna's ramparts when the cross shall shine.

Vain are their hopes, for days and weeks flew by; In peace a whole long year has flowed away, And Litwa threatens. Wallenrod, ignobly, Himself nor combats, nor goes out to war; And when he rouses and begins to act, Reverses the old ruling suddenly.

He cries, "The Order has overstepped its laws. The brethren violate their plighted vows. Let us engage in prayer, renounce our treasures, And seek in virtue and in peace renown." To penance he compels them, fasts, and burdens; Denies all pleasures, comforts innocent; Each venial sin doth cruelly chastise With dungeons underground, exile, the sword.

Meanwhile the Litwin, who long years afar Had shunned the portals of the Order's town. Now burns the villages around each night. And captive their defenceless people takes. Beneath the very castle proudly boasts, He in the Master's chapel goes to mass.