Page:Bohemian poems, ancient and modern (Lyra czecho-slovanska).djvu/42

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6
HISTORICAL BALLADS.

But Benes wends himself on high.
And towards the right doth swing
His sword, the army thither hastes;
Then towards the other wing

He points, towards the left they rush;
Thence towards the rocky pass;
And from the rocks upon the foe
They hurl the stony mass.

Now to the plain the fight descends,
The Germans they must fly,
The Germans they must shriek aloud,
The Germans they must die!