Sad sorrow fill’d his noble heart,
As round his glance did go,
And he mourn’d aloud, with a wood-dove’s wail,
For his country’s pain and woe.
Long time he sate, long time he mus’d,
Then up, like a stag, sprang he,
And through the wood, the lonely wood,
Right speedily did flee;
From man to man through all the land,
From warrior to warrior went,
And few the words he spake to each,
And secret their intent;
Before the Gods he bow’d himself,
Then on, on his mission bent.
The first, the second day is past,
And men, a numerous band,
On the third day's night, in the pale moonlight,
All in the black wood stand.
Thence Zaboi led them to a dell,
All in the deep, deep wood,
to attach it to a historical person. There is, however, considerable plausibility in the conjecture of Svoboda (adapted by Eichhoff) that the poet is here commemorating the victory of Samo over the Frankish army of Dagobert, between 628 and 638.
