eras, and leaves as it falls mouldering heaps and decaying fragments, ever spring forth the scattered blossoms of half buried plants that cling tenaciously to their native soil, and never can be eradicated.
“I doubt not that these indigenous and hardy roots will yet fill the land, and will cover its surface with their verdure. And never from Bohemia shall its own peculiar gifts be obliterated, or its own fruits and flowers of belief and nationality be destroyed. The mighty have been prostrated, the wise and good have been cut down; but in the quiet and unaffected paths of duty, in conspicuous honor or in humility, shall Bohemian life and faith revive; and as I believe, to greater dignity than ever.”
And then a dance and song made gay the happy company. Ludmila’s skillful fingers added nimbleness to the foot of the dancer; Sambor’s ringing voice enlivened the hearts of the merry-makers; and long through Moravia was told the tale of that inspiring evening, as men and women refreshed their thoughts with its memories, while they recounted the sad history of
Zawis and Kunigunde.
