Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 155

Her gentle sway, it seems, lost all its power

When hither came the culprit, whom the curse,

Like murky night, envelops and pursues.

Our doom to seal, the pious thirst for blood

The ancient cruel rite again unchains

The monarch's savage will decrees our death;

A woman cannot save when he condemns.