Konrad Wallenrod

A hundred years have passed since first the Order Waded in blood of Northern heathenesse; The Prussian now had bent his neck to chains, Or, yielding up his heritage, removed With life alone. The German followed after, Tracking the fugitive; he captive made And murdered unto Litwa’s farthest bound.

Niemen divideth Litwa from the foe; On one side gleam the sanctuary fanes, And forests murmur, dwellings of the gods. Upon the other shore the German ensign, The cross, implanted on a hill, doth veil Its forehead in the clouds, and stretches forth Its threatening arms towards Litwa, as it would Gather all lands of Palemon together, Embrace them all, assembled ’neath its rule.

This side, the multitude of Litwa’s youth, With kolpak of the lynx-hide and in skins Clad of the bear, the bow upon their shoulders, Their hands all filled with darts, they prowl around, Tracking the German wiles. On the other side, In mail and helmet armed, the German sits Upon his charger motionless; while fixed His eyes upon the entrenchments of the foe, He loads his arquebuse and counts his beads.