Page:Records of Woman.pdf/189

Rh

Gieb diesen Todten mir heraus. Ich muss Ihn wieder haben! ** * * Die nicht einmal in Grüber ihren arm Verlängern, eine kleine Ubereilung Mit Menschenleben nicht verbessern kann!
 * * * * Trostlose allmacht,

sat in silence on the ground, The old and haughty Czar; Lonely, tho' princes girt him round, And leaders of the war: He had cast his jewell'd sabre, That many a field had won, To the earth beside his youthful dead, His fair and first-born son.