‘Spirits of slaughter’d foes of old are they,
With threats of ruin once on Europe pour’d;
Beside their chief they stand in sad array,—
’Tis Paidar-Khan with his Tataric horde!
‘See there above, how in the clear blue sky
A noble picture doth its glories shew!
How in the proud victorious dawn on high
A starry host is gazing down below!
‘And midst in that victorious company
A jewel gleameth to his country dear,
The slayer of the Mongol-Khan is he—
’Tis Jaroslaw in glory doth appear!
‘Here is that battle-field for ever fam’d,
Here see’st the tombs of the Tataric bands,
Here were the fetters they for Europe fram’d
For ever shatter’d by Slavonic hands!
‘E’en as the ocean-waves towards the shore,
The wild ones westwards hurl’d themselves apace,
Yet did they strike and break for evermore
Against the rocks of the Bohemian race!
‘Seek’st of that hero deed the monument,
Which half the world the bliss of freedom gave?
Nature herself a glorious monument
Prepar’d for her true sons and warriors brave.
Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/83
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DELIVERANCE OF EUROPE.
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