Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/87

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THE GOLD SPINNING-WHEEL.
69

The heads hang down without the eyes,
The hands and feet are cut likewise.
In the forest dark, they met their fate,
Where they killed the maid they met their fate,
The death they made her suffer.

And what of the gold spinning wheel?
Its song was done that golden wheel
Sang but three times that miserable lay,
Then, strange to say, it vanished away.
But where no man can tell you.