Page:The Hussite wars, by the Count Lützow.djvu/386



forest peaceful lay, Bathed in fading sunset’s glow; E’en the treetops lay as still As their roots deep down below.

Lost in thought a horseman neared, On his arm reins loosely wound, Pacing slowly, dreamily Sinks his steed’s head t’ward the ground.

Suddenly the rider halts; As from dreamland he awoke, Leapt his blade from out its sheath, Haileth thus an ancient oak:

Here at this oak’s gnarled trunk, On a stormy thunder night, By sharp birth-pains overta’en Mother brought me forth to light.

Heard alone the wood her groans, Midwife was the bitter blast, That as blessings on the child Lightning flashes round it cast.