ARRAIGNMENT OF ZAWIS AND JAROSLAV
263
A pang that wrings in ceaseless pain;
A wound that will not heal;
A fractured link in life’s bright chain
That tearful eyes reveal.
A falsehood is the coward heart
That hides the grace it feels.
A falsehood works the tyrant’s part;—
To dungeon’s night appeals.
In the strong honor of my trust
A falsehood bound me here;
But the firm truth within me must
In heaven’s fixed light appear.
And that poor pittance that she gave—
Loved Kunigunde lost—
Tells mother sforesight from her grave,
Though rueful now the cost.
Yet even here each word from me
Must speak high truth alone;—
That gift her prince’s grace and free,
In love’s glad day her own.
