Bohemian legends and other poems/Sweet Death

For works with similar titles, see Sweet Death.

SWEET DEATH.

 

A youth rides quickly on his steed—
⁠He rides to battle.
The war-horse gladly neighs and leaps,
But his poor mother at home weeps,
⁠For her darling son,
⁠For her darling son.

“Weep not, weep not, my loved mother,
⁠For your dearest son;
I must go, you all to defend,
And my loved country’s flag attend,
⁠Even if I die,
⁠Even if I die.

“After a time I’ll come again,
⁠On my battle steed.
Bohemians cannot cowards be,
But the thick of the battle see,
⁠Both I and my steed,
⁠Both I and my steed.

“But should I in battle sinking
⁠N’er come home again,
Then remember, mother dearest,
No Bohemian ever fearest
⁠For his land to die,
⁠For his land to die."