Up! let the coward idlers sleep!
Who envies them their rest?
We march with joyful hearts to keep
Our honored king's request.
To us he said: "My brave ones all!—
My chasseurs! where are they?"
Responsive to his patriot call
We hastened to obey.
We vowed to strike with mighty hand
As it becomes the free—
A safeguard for our native land
With Heaven's grace to be.
Sleep calmly, wives and children dear
To God your sorrows tell.
The hour, alas! of blood is near,
But all your fears dispel.
Approved we hasten to the field;
What though the strife begins!
'Tis joy our loved ones thus to shield,
For pious courage wins.
Returning, all may not be found!
But some, in glory's grave,
Shall never hear the songs resound
Of those they died to save.
Come, glowing heart! despise the pain
Of death; for, evermore,.
Shall he who falls, a kingdom gain
On heaven's eternal shore!]
CHAPTER XXIII.
LEONORA PROHASKA.
Old Sergeant Prohaska sat sad and musing in his old easy-chair near the stove; before him lay a copy of the Vossische Zeitung, which he had just perused. He laid it aside with a sigh; supporting his head on the leathern cushion, he puffed clouds of smoke from his short clay pipe. Close to him, at the small table standing in the niche of the only window which admitted light into the small, dark room, sat a young girl, busily engaged in drawing threads from a large piece of linen, and putting them carefully on the pile of lint on the table. She was scarcely eighteen years old, but her noble, pale countenance wore an expression of boldness and energy; her forehead was high, and vigorous thoughts seemed to dwell there. Large black eyes were flashing under her finely-arched eyebrows, which almost touched each other above her beautifully-chiselled, slightly-curved nose. Round her crimson lips was an expression of melancholy, and her cheeks seemed to have been bleached by grief rather than sickness. She was tall and well formed, but her whole appearance was more remarkable for the stern and heroic character it indicated than for grace and loveliness. While she was thus at work, and engaged in preparing lint, troubled thoughts seemed to pass from time to time across her face, and she raised her eyes to heaven with an angry and reproachful expression. She impulsively cast aside the linen, and jumped up. "No, father," she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath, "I cannot bear it any longer!"