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Thus noble Oldřick from his horse address'd him
To the tired huntsmen, whose distress distress'd him,
And then he spurr'd again his weary steed—
Ah! his was very weariness indeed.
And thrice the evening sun had left the sky,
Since they were wandering in the gloomy wood;
And thrice the morning sun had mounted high,
Since lost among its shadow'd solitude
They stray'd; and now their hearts were faint and fearful:
Yet when they saw their valorous leader cheerful,
Their feeble spirits rous'd them up anew
To lead them even their coming perils through.
"Now, who has heard of this sequester'd spot,
Or who can tell this lonely village' name?"
So ask'd the noble prince—they snswer'd not—
It was a quiet scene, unknown to fame :—
"Go Smjl! there is a village maiden washing
At yon bright stream which from the rocks is dashing,
And she will tell its name, and she will say
How far 'tis distant from the public way."
