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But haste—prepare thee—feet of fleetness borrow;
Thou maiden! thou wilt be a bride to-morrow,
And thou, the village child, to rank allied,
Bohemia's princess, and Bohemia's pride."
"Rest—troubled spirit rest! in vain, in vain,
I bid the storminess of heart be still:
O weep not—weep not mother!—for again
We meet, and meet in joy:—if love fulfil
Its duties—on a daughter's heart, what other
Hath such a claim as a beloved mother;
And God, meanwhile be with thee—dry thy tear—
God—God be with thee, both to calm and cheer."
They mount—they move—they hurry, and they fly
Through meadows, fields and towns; and lo! a throng
Of villagers on foot, that follow nigh,
To guide them thro' perplexing paths along
And onward—onward, from Ztracena's border
The crowded phalanx moves in cheerful order,
Till in the mists of growing distance shrin'd
They leave the desolate village far behind.
