Page:Modern Czech Poetry, 1920.djvu/69

Rh A sickly apple-tree, by lightning split, Knows not, if it bloomed e'er.

When days are clear, the whistling finches Invade the rubble. Beaming, sunlit days Liven the dial's arc that fronts the place, And freakishly and gaily on its face Time's shadow dances And to the sky recites in words of gloom: Sine sole nihil sum.

For all is mask. “The Sun-Dial” (1913).

Thou who adorest peace and solitude And amid depth of woods, and calm of snowclad meadows Hearkenest to the beat of life, Dost thou not ever hear Voice of the depths?

Far carnivals of slaughter, blood and death are heard. Earth's muteness is of woe. But below The heart-beat stirs, and from the gloom a hidden well Thrusts itself lightwards.

And tunes young waters chant Quicken thy heart, and daze thy thoughts with joy that we Though in despair, yet not alone in hope can be. “The Months” (1914—18).