Page:The Czechoslovak Review, vol4, 1920.pdf/297
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THE CZECHOSLOVAK REVIEW
265
England
to
Czechoslovakia
ONCE—in the day of our meridian song
And young armadas—on your Bohemian hill
An older fame suffered an alien wrong
Where arms again blasphemed a people’s will.
And freedom slept among your heroes then,
Sepulchred on White Mountain, till a theme
Of the unforgotten music called again,
And sovranty was where had been a dream.
And young armadas—on your Bohemian hill
An older fame suffered an alien wrong
Where arms again blasphemed a people’s will.
And freedom slept among your heroes then,
Sepulchred on White Mountain, till a theme
Of the unforgotten music called again,
And sovranty was where had been a dream.
FORTUNE, for all our wisdom, we can shape not,
Being free, we yet are kinsmen of the blind,
The snares of our own hearts we can escape not,
Our bravest end is fortitude of mind—
But Masaryk knows, Bohemia knows, that thence
The spirit of man walks in magnificence.
Being free, we yet are kinsmen of the blind,
The snares of our own hearts we can escape not,
Our bravest end is fortitude of mind—
But Masaryk knows, Bohemia knows, that thence
The spirit of man walks in magnificence.
May, 1920
Spoken for the first time by Mrs. Patrick Campbell at the Czechoslovak Matinee, Prince of Wales Theatre, June 1st, 1920.