Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/101

The banner would have sunk now,
Had not the fearless youth
Caught it in his strong left hand,
And held it high in truth.
A lion was the stripling
In bravery; to and fro
One saw the banner waving
Like forest tree, I trow.

Zvikoš’ men are charging—
One comes behind the lad,
With mighty spear he strikes him;
His blood is running sad;
The left hand now is shattered,
The flag with blood is red—
His pale lips caught the banner—
The horse turned round and fled.

Fled onward to the castle,
And there the youth fell dead;
His pale lips held the banner
The noble soul had fled.
The maiden on the turret,
Like stricken doe, runs down,
She looks upon her lover,
Then dead she too falls down.

The plain is green with grasses,
A mighty tree stands bare;
The lightning struck it often,
For ages it stood there.
The castle is a ruin—
It frowns down from the hill,
But the memory of the youth
Lives in Bohemia still.