NIGHTFALL IN HUNGARY.
193
Thus, oh Hungaria! through the night
That wraps thee in its gloom,
Light from one burning soul streams forth,
A torch above thy tomb.
That wraps thee in its gloom,
Light from one burning soul streams forth,
A torch above thy tomb.
Thy tomb! oh no—the mouldering shroud
The worm awhile must wear,
Ere, from its confines springing forth,
He wings the upper air.
The worm awhile must wear,
Ere, from its confines springing forth,
He wings the upper air.
Thy tomb! then from its door ere long
The stone shall roll away,
Thou shalt come forth, and once again
Greet the new-risen day.
The stone shall roll away,
Thou shalt come forth, and once again
Greet the new-risen day.
The day that prayed and waited for
So long, shall surely rise,
As surely as to-morrow’s sun
Again shall greet our eyes.
So long, shall surely rise,
As surely as to-morrow’s sun
Again shall greet our eyes.
What though before the shape evoked
The coward heart has quailed,
And when the hour, the moment came,
The recreant arm has failed:—
The coward heart has quailed,
And when the hour, the moment came,
The recreant arm has failed:—
