Page:The Queens Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems, 1852, Cambridge edition.djvu/46

 They pray’d to God imploringly,
 * That he would them deliver.

“Now in thine anger, Lord, arise,
 * “And free us from the foe,

“And free us from the murderers,
 * “That would our souls bring low,

“And as the wolves around the sheep,
 * “Around us prowling go.”

A first, a second fight is lost,
 * The Tatars make their home

In Poland, all things devastate,
 * And near and nearer come.

And now the savage heathen press
 * To Olmütz; cries of woe

Arise in ev’ry district; nought
 * Is safe before the foe.

The first, the second day is past,
 * And neither side hath won;

But ah! the Tatar multitude
 * Goes still increasing on,

And waxes, as the ev’ning mist,
 * That hangs the woods upon.

The Christians, boat-like, to and fro
 * Amidst the Tatars sway,