Classic Poem

My country calls me, Kraska! dry thine eyes,
Disturb not with thy tears youth's quiet flow;
Rend not my heart—nor chill thine own with sighs;
Thy rosy cheeks are mantled o'er with snow—
Weep not because thy Ceskian leaves thee—No!
The mighty lion on the flag unfurl'd,
Roars with loud voice, and bids the warriors go—
Wealth, heart, and blood—our country—and the world.

How sweet and silent were our early days,
Gliding like meadow streamlets soft and still;
Enjoyment threw o'er every hour its rays,
Anxious, life's cup with flowing bliss to fill.
But soon—too soon—that bliss has been o'ercast,
Which made me the world's envy—now the frost,
The silver frost of sorrow makes a waste
Of my once glowing spirit—All is lost.

Yet will I prize thy love—the love I've sworn,
That love shall lead through immortality.
Think not that white-arm'd maidens' smile or scorn,
Can for an instant lure my thoughts from thee.
No dimples, howsoever lovely—grace,
Howe'er majestic—pearly teeth in rows—
Mouth breathing sweets—Can these—can these efface
Thy memory? Never!—or thy sway oppose?—

In the night's silence—at the twilight's dawn,
Whene'er I gird my sabre to my side—
When eve around the hills her clouds has drawn—
Then—always—shall I think of thee—and glide
In fancy to thy presence—midst the roar
Of cannons—and the flash of swords—and hiss
Of bullets—while like seeds of thistles o'er
Torn limbs fly by—thy love shall be my bliss.

Should I return to our bohemian land,
When the blest trump of peace is heard again,
What bliss—what bliss supreme to take thy hand—
How will my spirit thrill with rapture then!
Thy rosy lips my eager kiss shall press,
My arms around thy smiling form shall be;
Thine eyes—thy cheeks—the kiss of love shall bless;
O! the unutterable extasy!

Hark! hark! the trumpet's call—the banner flies
High flapping in the wind—our lions shake
Their grisly manes—thou maid of Paradise,
Come hither—come—thy hero's sabre take,
And gird it on—and bless him—and one kiss—
One kiss—and then—and then—what words can tell
My thoughts—thou joy, hope, peace, song, love, and bliss—
My more than heaven—farewell—farewell—farewell!