Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/110

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92
BOHEMIAN LEGENDS.

SWEET DEATH.

 

A youth rides quickly on his steed—
He rides to battle.
The war-horse gladly neighs and leaps,
But his poor mother at home weeps,
For her darling son,
For her darling son.

Weep not, weep not, my loved mother,
For your dearest son;
I must go, you all to defend,
And my loved country’s flag attend,
Even if I die,
Even if I die.

After a time I’ll come again,
On my battle steed.
Bohemians cannot cowards be,
But the thick of the battle see,
Both I and my steed,
Both I and my steed.

But should I in battle sinking
N’er come home again,
Then remember, mother dearest,
No Bohemian ever fearest
For his land to die,
For his land to die."