Bless the Magyar, Lord we pray,

Nor in bounty fail him

Shield him in the bloody fray

When his foes assail him. .

And now it was as if. . there was a shout or something. . Or not quite a shout. . no, it was someone crying. “No, it’s some animal. . an animal whimpering. It must have broken its leg.” But however he looked this way and that it was total darkness either side of him now. It was impossible to see anything.

He whom ill luck long has cursed

This year grant him pleasure. .

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