Now Brožík, with a painter’s skill,
From history has awaked the dead.
Bohemia, that has great men still.
Nor are thy days of glory fled.
Thy poets, too, have sung thy praise,
In verses that shall never die.
In many lands one hears the lays
From Dvořák, like a homeward sigh.
Palacký, with a lover’s zeal,
Has writ thy history great in fame.
Tomek has made us know and feel,
Though changed, that Prague is still the same.
Brave land, so crushed that still can live
And teach thy sons the way to fame;
Strong land that still has strength to give
Men that no enemy can tame.
Thy sons have wandered far and wide;
One finds them scattered in all lands—
In forests where the black bear hide,
And amidst Africa’s burning sands.
Bohemia! thou hast been my home,
And I will sing thy praises still.
Wherever ’tis my fate to roam
No other land thy place shall fill.
Memory shall wander back at will
Amidst thy forests and thy fields,
And I shall see each well-known hill,
And listen to the echo’s peals.
Bohemia! be thou blest of God—
May He uphold thee in His strength;
May all thy children learn to laud
Their father’s God, throughout thy length.
Forget not how your fathers fought—
For what they lived—for what they died;
Remember what your fathers taught,
And hold to it whate’er betide.
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BOHEMIAN LEGENDS.
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