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"Ah! whose lips can dare to fancy that to-day they will at last

find the magic word that will soften marble-like despair, that

will lift the stony lid from men's hearts, and will open eyes

heavy with so many tears?

"Some time-when the lions of vengeance shall cease to roar, when

the blare of the trumpet shall be stilled, when the ranks shall

be broken, when our eagles with a flight like lightning shall

settle on the ancient boundaries of Boleslaw the Brave, and,

eating their fill of corpses, shall be drenched with blood, and

finally fold their wings to rest; when the last enemy shall give

forth a cry of pain, become silent, and proclaim liberty to the

world: then, crowned with oak leaves, throwing aside their

swords, our knights will seat themselves unarmed and deign to

hear songs. When the world envies their present fortune they will

have leisure to hear of the past! Then they will weep over the

fate of their fathers, and then those tears will not soil their

cheeks.