Skip to main content

Full text of "The book of German songs:"

See other formats


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 



p i 

-A-^., ^« 













/ratiifim.— JBilitiri] «ii f ahiitit togi 

^0flk of §txmm ^onp: 

X^i Siitttnt^ to t^t Jtintftmt^ acntutg. 






^3S-. rt^ J- 





.f . 


■■'2 ' 
. # ■•" 


I ■■ 

• ■■.' 

;« • 

■ • 






Compared with the bulky collections of "Alte und 
Neue Lieder," which have appeared from time to time 
in Germany, I^Ms little yolmne must necessarily seem a 
crude ind fragmentary representatiye of Crerman Song 
Literature. It does not, indeed, aspire to completeness. 
The subject is far too ample to be exhausted within the 
compass of a few hundred pages; for there ll.*acarcely a 
department of Gefman song writing, whether it be that 
of popular soaifli^' (VolksUeder)^ sacred and moral songs 
(Geis^he LUtkr), or students' songs (Studenten-und 
BiMcsehenlieder), which would not present sufficient mate- 


rial for a book of goodly size ; — and however JcarefuUy a 
yolume like the present one may be prepaVed, much 
that is essential must necessarily be omitted from mere 
lack of space. 

With this preliminary apology to all who honour 
these English yersions of German songs with a perusal, 

vi editor's pbefacb. 

the translator has still a word of explanation for those of 
his readers who may be surprised at the omission of lyrics 
of first-rate merit, while manifestly inferior productions 
have been given. The purpose for which this book has 
been compiled is to give, in an English garb, songs 
characteristic of the nation and period from which they 
emanated, rather than to point out the individual excel- 
lencies of particular authors. A song, worthless in itself, 
may become important from the associations connected 
with it, or the circumstances to which it owed its origin; 
and may, as a representative of a particular school of writing, 
possess a value to which, individually considered, it could 
lay no claim. Few readers, for instance, would be in- 
clined to attribute any high literary merit to the Jacobite 
song of " Johnnie Cope ;*' and fewer still would consider 
"La Carmagnole" as anything but a sanguinary outburst 
of revolutionary licentiousness. Yet no series of .Scottish 
songs would be complete without the one, and no judi- 
cious collector of French lyrics would be justified in 
omitting the other. This is the reason why, in th< 
course of the present volume, such songs as ^^Fredericu- 
Rex;' " aallant Schill,'' Gleim's " Song of Victory;' an<i 
others of the same stamp, have usurped the places of th 
finished productions of more gifted authors. Theur popu* 

editor's prefacs. vii 

larity in Germany was considered in itself a sufficient 
warrant for their translation into English. 

It has been in every case the translator's endeayour 
to ^ve a correct rendering of the meamng and spirit of 
the original songs, even to the sacrificing of the doubtful 
advanti^e of literal accuracy. The metre of the German 
song has, however, in almost every instance been retained, 
and the original, in many cases, appended to the English 
version, as the student may desire to compare the trans- 
lation offered to him, with the song as written by the 
German author. 

In conclusion, the translator begs to assure his readers 
that in one respect, at least, this collection is not open 
to censure. No song has been admitted if it contained 
a word or a sentiment which would render the book 
in^ll^ble for admission into the drawing-room or the 




A Battle Prajer 
A Curious History 
After the Harvest 
A Lover's Song 
A Tragical Story 
A Wish . . 

BaUad . 
BaUad . 
Barbarossa • 
Before the Doors 
Beware of the Rhine 
Blucher • 

Christmas Carol for Children 

Comfort at Parting 

Consolation • 

Consolation, Song of 

Count Eberhard the Weeper, 
temberg • • • 

Cradle Song • • • 

Dame Nightingale » 
Drinking Song 
Drinking Song in May 
Drinking Song • 

Emperor Elfts. 
Ergo Bihamus 

Evening in Spring 
Evening Song 

Th,K9rnar y 



E, M, Amdi 

8mrock . 

of Wur- 


Kotzebue . 
Neumark • 

SchOkr • 

E, W. C. Starke 


G. A. V. Ealem 

L. UhJand 











False Blue • • • • 
Farewell Song of a Jourreyman 
Farewell to the Old Tear « 
Fidacit • • • • • 
Fredericos Bex • • « 

Gallant Schill . 
Gaadeamos . • • • 
German Drink and German Truth 
Grave Song • • . • 

Haye-I and H^d-I • • • 


How canst thou sleep in quiet? 
Hunter's Song • . . 
Hussar*s Song • • • 
Hymn • • • • • 

If they knew it, little Flowerets 
It is all one • . • • 

Life still enjoy, Friends 
Lore-Ley • • 

Men and Knaves • 
Morning Song in Spring. 
My True-love is pretty . 

Nature and Man • • 
Nor Luck nor Star . • • 
Not only for this Nether World 

Old fiacchus 

Parting • • 
Patriotic Song 
Patriotic Song 
Prophecy • 
Punch Song • 


• • 

WiaSxdd Alexis 
AmcU • . 

• • 

Mahlmafin • 

A» R E. Langhein 


ff. Heine • 

M, Luther 

E, Heine • 

Utteri • 
ff. Heine • 

JP. Kdmer 
W, G.Becker 

G. A. Kinkel 

C. L, G, Meister 

BOrger • 

K M, AmcU 
Hinckel . 

SchiUer . 





















SirOlof. . . . 

Soldiers* Morning SoQg • 

Song, Love, and Wine • 

Song .... 

Song of Victory after the Battle of Leipzig 

Song of Victory after the Battle of Prague 

Song — " A yoang man loves a maiden 

Song — " A star is falling** 

Song, Doable . • 

Spring . • • • 

Tailors' Heroism • • 

Taking np Qaarters « 

The Artist and the Public 

The Battle of Prague 

The Broken Ring . 

The Chapel . 

The Coming of Spring • 

The Course of my Life • 

The Daisy . • • 

The Diver 

The Fishermaiden • • 

The Fox-Ride . 

The German the Dearest 

The German Rhine • 

The Grenadiers . • 

The Hammer-Stroke • 

The Hostesses Daoghter . 

The Huntsman's Joy 

The Hussites before Naumburg 

The Jolly Brother . 


The Krfthwinkel Guardsmen 

The Lad of the Mountain 

The Locksmith's Man • 

The Man in the Cellar • 

The March . 

The Months and the Men 

The Moon Dial 

The Kibelungei's Treasure 

Maxv. Schenkendorf 

Th. Kdmer 

Herder's VoVuUeder 



H. Heine 



Mm Hartnuxnn 

A, Chamisso 


J. V. Eichendorff 
Uhland . 
Maaer . 

G. W. rwk 
SchiUer • 
H Heine . 

SchreXber • 
H Heine . 
Eberhard , 
L, Uhland 


X. UKUmd 
GrObel . 

A, Methfessel 

Bimrock • 












































The Old Soldier to liis Qoak 

The Old Love Songs 

The Peasants Rule 

The Pilgrimage to Keevlar 

The Retreat . 

The Richest Prince • 

The Serenade • • • 

The Song of Wine • • 

TheSUgesofLife • • 

The Sunken Crown • 

The Table-Song of Truth 

The TaUor's Fright. 

The Three Tailors . 

The Toper's Dilemma . 

The Tree in the Odenwald 

The Two Coffins . 

The Water it Rushes • 

The Watchman's Song • 

The White Hart . 

The Wooer . 

The World a Beer-Bottle 

Thou say'st my Songs are Poisoned 

To Hun 

To Spring 

To the Winehouse . • 

Trooper's Song 

Under the Dark Linden Trees 
Urian's Voyage round the World 

Wanderer's Song • • • 
Wanderer's Song • • • 
Wander^sSong . • • 
Wandering Song . 
War-Song for the Chasseur Volunteers, ) 

Ambrosiiu Metzger 
UMand . • 
Seine • • 

J, Kemer • 
L. UkJand 
F. Rochlitz 
A. F, E. Lanybein 
UhUmd . 

Goethe . • 
C. H&rlossohn . 

J, KemsT • 
Goethe • • 

UKUmd . 

H, Heine . • 

McMmomn • 


H. V. FaUersleben 

SchiUer . 

Matthias CkmcUm 

Goethe • • 

What is the Best Thing? 
What is the German's Fatherland? 
90 X 9 X 99 


J, KemeT • • 
MuUer . 

De la Motte Fouqud 

Kopisch . • 
Amdt • • 















|nii« in Jfirst fines. 

AiiLtM efttUcht In mchtan 

Am FenaUr itaDd die Hntter . . , , B. Banc . 

A'n ScMoBWr hot a'n G'sellen g^t . . . Gr-a6d 
An d«ii Elieiii, an deo BhdD, zieh nicht an den Bhdn Jnmx^ . 

Bd «in«ni Wlrtha inuidcTmlld . 

Bekrftozet die Toanen 

BrUder hier Bteht Bier itatt Wdn 

D* dniben aof dem Hllgel . 
Das Leben gldctat der Blonie 
Dw Ued TOm Weill ... 
Dw Tolk aUht utt, der Sttinn brioht 

Dm WandEm iat dea Hollers Liut 
Der alU BsibsioBsa .... 
Der bluclie, herbstliclie Hilbmoad 
Der Gott, del EiwD irscbsen liess 
Der JBger geht zn Feat 
Der Usi ist gEkommeii, die Bhune scUageo 
Dei Stamme spracb znm Blinden 
Dei Bflsae Scblaf der slle sonst srqidcbt 
Die Hnselteii xogea Tor Naunibnig , 
Die Felder Bind nna alle leer . . 
Die Feiuter aafl die Herzen snfl . 
Die Welt gldcht einer Bieitaatdlle . 
Droben atehet die Eapelle , , , 
Du BcbSnea FUdiermlblElieii . , 

Etna- . 
H.BBiie . 



Ein Jangling liebt ein Mildchen . • • . 
£in Schlosaer hat*nen G'sellen g'habt . 
Erhebt each von der Erde, ihr Schlilfer aus der Ruh 
Es blinken drei fireondliche Sterne . • 

Es fUllt ein Stem heranter 

Es fiel ein Beif in der FrUhlingsnacht . 

Es, es, es, and es 

Es giebt Nichts lastigers in der Welt . • • 
Es giebt zwei Yogel sie sind bekannt . • • 
Es gingen drei J&ger wohl aaf die Birsch • • 
Es haben yiel Dichter gesangen .... 
Es haben viel Dichter die lange verblichen. • 

Es hatten drei Gtesellen 

Es hatten wilde M5rder . . • • • 

£s ist ein Schuss gefallen 

Es kamen drei Schneider wohl an den Bhein • 
Es kann ja nicht immer so bleiben • • • 
Es lebe was aaf Erden . . . • • 
Es reden and trftamen die Menschen vid • • 

Es ranschet das Wasser 

Es schwebt ein Greist ob der Frtthlingspracht • 
Es steht ein Banm im Odenwald . • • • 
Es war ein Kdnig in Thnl^ . • • • • 
Es war einmal ein K5nig . • • • • 
Es waren einmal die Schneider • • • • 
Es zog aos Berlin ein tapferer Held . • • 
Es zogen drei Borsche wohl ilber den Bhein • 

JET. ffeine • 

Grabd , 

Max V. Schenkendorf, 


E, Heine . 

Langbein . 
Uhland . 
Langbein . 

Kotzebue . 
• « • 
Sc^Uler • 

Simrock . 
(Fliegendes Blatt) 
Amdt . 
Uhkbnd . 

Fran Nachtigall mach* dich bereit 
Fredericas Bex, anser K5aig and Herr 
Freat each des Lebens . • • 

Grad* aos dem Wirtshaas nan komm* ich heraos 

Gaadeamos igitar 

Gieb blanker Brader, gieb mir Wein • • • 

WiUibaid Alexii 

Mvhler • 

Herr Bacchas ist ein braver Mann • • 
Herr Olof reitet spftt nnd weit . • • 

Herz yoll Math 

Hinaos in die Feme, mit lantern Hdmerklang 
H&rt ihr Lente and lasst each sagen . 
H&rt miU LUd* en Bitgen still . 

Burger • 
■ • • 
A, Mdihfe^d 





2 16 














Ich bin einmal etwas liinans spatzirt • • 
Ich bin Yom Berg der Hirtenknab* . • 
Ich hab' geklopft an des Reicbthoms Hans 
Ich hab* in das blaue Meer geschant • • 
Ich hab mein Sach* anf Nichts gestellt • 
Ich liebte dioh and du wnsstest^s nicht • 
Ich stand auf Berges Halde . • • 
Ich weiss niaht was soil es bedeaten • • 
Ihr, ihr, dort draussen in der Welt • • 
Im Fliederbusch ein YSglein sass • • 
Im Januar flibren die Mftnner nns • • 
Im klihlen Kell^ sitz ich hier • • • 
Im Weine wie das Sprichwort sagt • 
Immer langsam voran, immer langsam voran 
In einem ktlhlen Grande .... 
In's Weinhaas trebt mich dies ond^as • 

F. RUcJcert 
H. Heine 


H. V. FaUerskben 

. 115 

. 78 

. 282 

. 172 

. 191 

. 134 

. 149 

. 163 

. 39 

. 158 

. 104 

. 181 

. 182 

. 308 

. 132 

. 204 

Leb* wohl, da liebes altes Jahr • 
Lustig ihr Leate, Soldaten sind da 

Osiander • 


Mein Lebenslaof ist Lieb and Last • • 
Mein Schiltzerl ist htlbsch, aber reich ist es nit 
Mass i' denn, mass i* denn, zum Stttdele *naa8 




Nach Frankrdch zogen zwei Grenadier' 
Nicht bios far diese Unterwelt • • 

ff, Seine • 
C. Meiiter 

. 89 
. 279 

OEwigkeit, oEwigkeltl ••••• 285 

Preisend mit riel schOnen Reden 

• • 

Schlafj HerzenssOhnohen, mein Liebling bist da 
Schier dreissig Jahre bist da alt . . . . 
Selig die Todten 1 sie rahen and rasten 
Schon haben viel Dichter die lange verblichen • 

'S ist mir alles eins 

Sie sollen ihn nicht haben • • • • • 
Spatzieren wollt' ich reiten . • • • • 
Snch dir im Sommer einen Schatz • • • 
S*war einer dem*8 za Herzen ging • • • 

• • • 


• 116 
. 118 

C. V. EdUer 

. 43 


. 271 

A. Langbein 

. 104 
. 116 

Nic, Becker 

. 85 

• • • 

. 131 

UMand • 

. 185 

Chamiaso • 

. 293 

TriamDh! das Schwert in tapfto Hand 

Max V, SchiBnkendorf 80 


INDBX,^' * 

Und als die Schneider revoltirt' . 
Und die Sonne machte den weiten Bitt 
Und w1is8ten*8 die Blomen die Eleinen 

Chamisso . 
E, M, Amdt 
H. Heine • 

Yater, ich rofe Dich •••••• Kdmer • 

Yaterlaadslied • • • • • • Hinkd • 

Yergiftetsind meineLeider. • • • • H, Heine . 

Yictorial mit uns iat Gott • • • • • Gldm, • 

Yier Elemente • • SchiUer • 

Yon alien L&ndem in der Welt • • • • SchnUcU . 

Yom Himmel hoch da komm ich her • • • JIf. Luther 

Yon dem Berge zu den HUgeln . • • Goethe • 

Wandem! es ist des MUller's Lust 
Was blasen die Trompeten? Husaren heraua • 
Was hat das Gibiseblttm* gethan? 
Was ist des Deutschen Yaterland ? • • 

Was ist doch anf dieser Welt • • • • 
Was kann schSner seyn ? . • • • • 
Was kommt dort von der Hdh* ? • • . 
Was schweigen die Sibiger, die sonst wohl gesongen 
Was wecken aus dem Schlommer mien 
Wenn Jemand eine Beise thut • • • . 
Wenn wir beim Wein sind, was ist da das beste ? 
Wer so ans Bussland wandern muss • • • 
Wer nur den lieben Grott lILsst walten . • 

Wer wagt es, Bittersmann oder Koapp • • 
WieistdochdieErdesoschdn?. • • • 
Wie reizend, wie wonnig ist alles nmher • • 
Wie kannst dn rahig schlafen • • • • 
Willkommen schdner JUngling • • • • 
Wir sind die KDnige der Welt .... 
Wohlanf I Kameraden, anf 8 Pferd, anTs PferdI 
Wohlauf 1 noch getmnken den funkelnden Wein 
Wohlanf zom freodigen Jagen • • 

TT. MuOer 


G. W, Fmk 


F, Euckert 

JEhrhoird . 
Uhkmd . 
Matthias Claudius 
Kopisch . 

G, Neumarh 
SchiUer . 

N. G, Becker 

H. Heine . 

SchiUer . 

G. V, Starke 

SchiUer • 

•/• Kemer • 

De la Motte FouquS 









Zwei Silrge dnsam stehea 

•A. Kemer 


The practice of celebratiiig the deeds and perpetuating th« 
memory of heroes in tragic and mirthful song, seems to 
have been common among the German races in the most 
sndeat times. The records of the earliest battles, in which 


the rude barbarians of the north strove to make head against 
the powers and resources of Rome, tell us how the Cimbri 
and Teutones advanced singing to the coniiiBt. The songs 
in praise of the god Thuisco are mentioned by Tacitus ; and 
a few scattered fragments of old heroic lays, which have been 
preserved through the devastation, turmoil, and conflict 
amid which the Queen of the World sank down, stilj 
remain to indicate to the modern German the character of 
these first glimmerings of his country's literature. With 
the conversion of the German tribes to Christianity came 
the substitution of Christian traditions for pagan ditties ; and 
though Charlemagne made a collection of Teutonic ballads, 
the old legends were almost forgotten, till the time when a 
poet of the twelfth century incorporated a number of them 
to form the incidents in the plot of the Song of the Nibe^ 
lungers (Das Nibelungen Lied).* 

The institution of the laws and customs of chivalry 
brought with it a peculiar literature. Germany — ^the southern 
portion, Austria, and Thuringia in particular — ^had its Min- 
strels and Minnesingers, who became as popular at the 
German courts as were the troubadours and Proven9aux in 
the bowers of France and England. The legends of Prince 
Arthur and the "HolyGral" date from this period. The 
catalogue of the minnesingers includes many noble and even 
some royal names. Versification became a fashion, and 

* The opening lines of this magnificent song sofficieDtly explain its purport. 
They run thas : — 

** Uns ist in alten Moeren, Wanders Til geseit. 
Yon Helden lobeboeren, von grozer Euonheit ; 
Yon Yrouden, Hdchgeziten, von Weinen nnd von Elagen, 
Yon Enener Becken striten mnget ir nn Wunder hoeren sagen." 


the poet was sure (f entertainment and patronage at the 
court of the German prince. 

The lyrical poetry of this period is trivial in form, and of 
small literary value ; it posselfes, however, in a high degree, 
the element which gave its elevation to chivalry, and which 
operated as a check to the irresponsible power of the great in 
the middle ages — ^respect and devotion to the weaker sex. 
Walter von der Vogelweide, 1170-1226 — Heinrich Frauenlob 
(the woman-praiser), 1250-1318 — ^Wolfram von Eschenbach, 
and many other minstrels, come under this category. Satirical 
poetry, first bursting forth in little rilk against the aristocracy, 
and at length rolling in a powerful stream against churchmen 
and church aljuses, now begins to gain the ascendant; 
chivalry, with its songs, falls into disrepute, and becomes an 
object of caricature ; a deep religious contest engrosses the 
minds of the populace, and one great man arises to exert an 
influence equally conspicuous in the religious and in the 
literary history of his age. A new era of national writing 
may be dated from the 31st October, 1517, when Martin 
Luther publicly upheld the ninety-five theses he had nailed 
to the door of the castle church at Wittenberg. 

Throughout all the song literature of the sixteenth 
century the religious element predominates. With the 
Emperor Maximilian, " the last of the knights," as historians 
call him, the age of chivalric poetry passed away; and 
Thetierdank, the famous allegorical poem, wherein is repre- 
sented the Kaiser's marriage with Mary of Burgundy, forms 
the last link in the series of knightly romaunts. The great 
religious struggle of the century began, and the literary 
ability of the time was enlisted on either side of tb« contest. 


Thus the 9jitirist, Thomas Mumer, after graphically exposing 
* > the abuses of the Romish churiii^ plied his pen with much 
acnmony against Luther, and was liDftrited by Henry "VULL. 
to England, on the strength of liiis literary activity. But, on 
^ the side of the Protestants, song was a powerful vehicle for 
^yr the representation of doctrines and dogmas. tThe Reformers, 
who had justly raised their voices against iihe subject-matter 
/ of t^'JjiiJlads then in vogue among the people, borrowed 
the snkpe and structure of the popular songs of the day 
for the erection of ti purer and higher lyrical standard. 
Some of the more i^d, teachers of Protestantism seem 
to have objected to songs generally, and to have coun- 
tenanced the writing of hymns principally as a means of 
getting rid of ^ A^^^ ^^ ; ^^^ ^^ intolerance was not 
confined to songs 'of an objectionable character, but was 
extended to every lyrical production of a political or 
humorous tendency. That the great leader of the Re- 
formation cannot have entertained these extreme views is 
indicated by his having written a poetical eulogy of music 
generally, under the tide " Frau Musica,'* and a distich 
of a still more explicit kind, which runs — 

'* Wer nicht liebt Weib^ Wein, and Gesang, 
Bleibt ein Narr sein Lebelang.** * 

Among the inestimable services rendered by Luther to 
Germany, his having been the founder of a new school of 
sacred songwriting is, perhaps, not the least. Through his 
own efibrts, and the efiect of his example on his friends, col- 
lections of noble hymns were called into being, which have, 

* Who loyeth not wife, wine, and song 
Bemaineth a fool his whole life long. 


in spite of all changes of poetical taste and ^ling, main- 
tained their high positi99in every congregational coUectioit. *^ 
of hymns throughoitt Protestant Germany. It is scarcely 
necessary to point to die gjtodeur of the lyric, ^^ Ein' feste . 
Burg ist unser Gott," or to the sweet simplicity of the " Christ- 
mas Carol for .Children," and of the " Vater unser." Alberus', ^T 
Dachstein, J^iltus Jonas, Hegenwaldt, Spengler, and many 
others,' had a share in the authorship of Luthfl9^4 ^ymn- '\, 
books. The best collection of the religious songs of Ger- 
many, from the time of Luther to that of A. Blaurer, is '' 
the excellent and laborious 4m compiled by K. E. P. 

The religious movement which had agitated Germany 
now manifested itself in the production^ Qjf dramas on sacred 
subjects, interspersed with efforts of a humourous cha- 
racter. As a tragic poet, Bebhuhn stands pre-eminent; 
in the lighter department, Hans Sachs, " the cobbler bard." 
This prolific author produced, in the space of about half a 
century, the almost incredible number of six thousand two 
hundred and sixty pieces, comprising merry comedies, 
mournful .tragedies, farces (Schwanke), dialogues, and an 
infinity of songs, serious and gay.- The tragic productions 
of Hans Sachs are far inferior in merit to his poems on 
lighter subjects; the latter are written with true poetic 
feeling. Some of his hymns, also, are pre-eminent among 
the sacred songs of the age. Johann Fischart, the author of 
*' Till Eulenspiegel," is the only contemporary writer whose 
works can bear comparison with those of Hans Sachs. 

The seventeenth century brought with it the memorable 
struggle known ais the " Thirty Years' War." It is natural 



to suppose that, while the eyes of all men were turned upon 
the leaders of the contest, and while every ear was strained 
to catch the first sound of each new event, the song litera- 
ture of the period should choose as its chief subject the 
chances and changes of the battle field. This has been the 
'fease ; and every important turn in the fortune of the war — 
the repulse of Wallenstein from Stralsund — ^the frightful 
* devastation of Magdeburg — the battle of Liitzen — ^the death 
of Gustavus Adolphus — each memorable action, advance, or 
retreat, has been recorded in song, till an almost inex- 
haustible budget has accumulated. Some pieces are written 
in a seiious, the majority, however, in a satirical vein. The 
favourite hero of these war songs is the gallant Swedish king, 
Gustavus Adolphus. Among the whimsical efiusions called 
into being by the events of the time, is a song with the 
strange title, " Tilly-Schwedisches Concert und Contra- 
punct, von groben schweren Nothen darvon die KopfFe 
bluten, und zum Final ein hartes Schwedisches Obendrauf 
oder Zugab " — (TiUy-Swedish Concerto and Counterpoint^ of 
rode heavy notes which make the heads bleed; and for the 
finale a hard Swedish conclusion or supplement,) This was an 
outburst of triumph on the occasion of the Swedish king's 
victory over Tilly, at Leipsic. Its date is 1632. 

The troopers' songs of the Thirty Years' War are not 
devoid of a certain broad humour, and here and there 
exhibit even gleams of pathos. But the remaining portion 
of the period's literature is inferior to that of the preceding 
century. The form of the German tongue was changing. 
A weak, tasteless style, encumbered by the introduction of 
French and Latin words, was gradually usurping the place 

• •• 


of the vigorous, healthy language into which Luther had 
translated the Scriptures. The boundless misery entailed 
upon the Grerman empire by the presence of the mer- 
cenaries of Wallenstein, and of the marauding troops of 
Saxony, who fed upon the land like locusts, could not have 
any but an unfavourable influence upon tlie men who lived' 
during this period of anarchy and distress. All things 
considered, the wonder is, not that there should be a -dearth 
of poetry during the Thirty Years' War, but that the charac- 
ter of the literature it has to ofler is not more gloomy and 

Efforts were made to counteract the destructive tenden- 
cies of the times by the formation of literary societies 
(Sprachgesellschaften). Foremost among these stands the 
Fruchtbringende Gesellschaft (Fruit-bearing Society), formed 
in 1617 by two princes of Anhalt, several Saxon princes, 
and a number of notabilities ; — its object being to revive the 
purity of the Gterman language. Various similar fraternities 
were founded in succession; among others the Q-esellschaft der 
PegnitZ'Schdfer {Pegnitz shepherds), andtheMbschwanenorden 
(order of Elbe-swans). None of these societies would seem 
to have achieved very important results. The " fruit-bearing 
society" yielded but scanty literary crops, and the only 
advantage secured by the whole movement appears to be 
that it kept alive, among the higher classes at any rate, the 
embers of an interest for poetry. Becker, a teacher at the 
Leipsic Thomasschule, was the author of various hymns of 
more than ordinary merit. But the man who at this time 
deserved better than any other poet of the period at the 
hands of his countrymen, and who is looked upon, to a great 



extent, as the father of modern German poetry, was Martin 
Opitz. This writer strove manfully, and successfully, to 
raise the poetry of his nation to the Lutheran standard. 
The reproach of having, in his writings, paid too exclusive a 
court to the princes of his time, has been frequently cast at 
Opitz; but he can scarcely be blamed for having endea- 
voured to difluse an interest for literature among the only 
class who could advance its cause. Unconsciously, however, 
he became the founder of a species of court poetry, which 
does not occupy an honourable position in the literary 
aimals of his country. 

A more important fraternity of poets than had yet 
appeared arose at Konigsberg, in or about the year 1646. 
The originator of the society was Heinrich Albert, organist 
at Konigsberg. The meetings of the club were at first held 
in the garden of the founder, who composed music for many 
of the songs which were there read. Robert Roberthin, 
bom at Konigsberg in 1600, was the most influential mem- 
ber of the club, though the name of Simon Dach, the 
author of "Annie of Tharaw," is the one most intimately 
identified with the Konigsberg society. 

Some clever satires of J. Riemer, who wrote under the 
name of Reinhold, are worthy of mention. They are 
directed against the prevailing rage for introducing foreign 
words into German writings — a custom reprehended by many 
German poets of the period, who seem to have overlooked 
the fact that the introduction of a foreign form and spirit 
into their poetry was doing far greater injury to its national 
character than the use of foreign terms. A satirical " Song 
^-la-mode," in which this confusion of terms is ridiculed, 



has a most coraic efiect. The song (the foreign words of 
which are printed in italics) reads as follows : — 

Solcbe Amartume 
Macbt Neptuno BnJtme 
In Oceana Grentz, — 
Eomt ihr Flussnajadon 
Und ihr Meertriaden 
Scliaut die CotueqiterUs. 

BelUf irerd ihr lieben 
Und nicht mehr betrilben 
Eore Conscientz ; 
Werdt ihr rejouiren 
Die im Meer versiren 
Nach der Aparentz. 

Die CoquUles tra$;en 
Werden tandem fragen 
Kach der Excellentz, 
So die taliteten 
Advlciret hatten 
Durch die Abstinentz. 

AhitineTttz von Hassen 
Und sich lieben lassen 
Sonder Insolentz, 
Eann das Meer versiissen, 
Bis zu euren Fiissen 
Macht Euch Eeverentz, 

Confiisiua von Ollapodrida, 

At the close of the seventeenth and the commencement 
of the eighteenth century, German poetry appears in a more 
hopeless condition than during the convulsions of the Thirty 
Years' War. The coarseness which abounded in the songs 
of the troopers had given place to a wide-spread depravity, 
badly concealed beneath a thin cloak of so-called gallantry. 
Founded on foreign models, badly followed and clumsily 
imitated, the songs of the beginning of the seventeenth 
century were not more likely to gain a permanent hold on 

JReverirte Dame, 
Phcenix meiner Ame, 
Gebt mir audiena. 
Euer Gnnst meritei^ 
Machen zafalliten 
Heine patienz. 

Ach ich admirire 

Und considerirt 

Eure violentz ; 

Wie die Liebesflamme 

Hich brennt sonder blasme, 

Gleicb der Festilentz. 

Ihr seid sebr capable, 
leh bin pea vaktble 
In der Eloquemtz; ' 
Aber mein serviren 
Pflegt zn dependiren 
Yon der InfluefUz, 

TAeisie Zarmea miissen 
Von den jouen Flussen 
Nach der Sing ccuientz ; 
Wie der Rhein covliret 
TJod sich degorgiret 
N&cbst bei Cobdeatz, 


the affections of the people than were the ditties of the 
Corydon and Phyllis school in England. Some clever 
students' songs certainly occur; but the general literary 
aspect of the first half of this century is barren, immoral, 
and licentious. 

The first symptoms pf a healthier tone are to be found 
in the writings of Haller and Hagedom, who endeavoured 
to elevate the taste of their readers by giving them vivid 
and faithful representations of nature, in contradiction to 
the literary dictator of the time, Gottsched, whose artificial 
style, " correctly dull and regularly low," was only too uni- 
versally lauded and emulated. The "Bremer Beytrage" 
(Bremen Contributions), a periodical with which most of the 
literary celebrities of the time were connected, appeared 
from the year 1745 to 1759. The poems in this collection 
are not of a high order, and the publication itself degene- 
rated at length into licence and frivolity ; miserable eflusions 
in the style of Grecourt and of the " Contes^^ of La Fon- 
taine being freely admitted. It is remarkable that Ihe 
fourth volume of the periodical contains the three first 
cantos of IGopstock's "Messiah;" and the fact that this 
glorious poem was not admitted without hesitation, forms a 
sufficient commentary on the discernment of Klopstock's 
contemporaries. The latter portion of the work is full of 
adulation of Frederick the Great. 

The Seven Years' War naturally gave employment to the 
pens of song writers. Gleim, Ramler, E. von Kleist, Schu- 
bart, Cronengk, Willamov, and many others, sang the 
praises ot the Prussian hero Frederick, while Rautenbach, 
with a small band of supporters, took up the cause of Maria 


Theresa. The nameless poets of the bivouac were for their 
part not silent ; and the anonymous songs, ^^ Fredericus 
Rex" and " Als die Preussen marschirten vor Prag," 
enjoyed a popularity which never fell to the share of the 
efiiisions firom the pens of the accredited poets. The songs 
of Gleim may be taken as specimens of this school of 
writing. Groethe says, in reference to them, " The war- 
songs of Gleim have held so high a position among German 
poems firom the fact that tliey arose with the events they 
record, and, moreover, because they possess the happy 
appearance of having been written by one of the com- 
batants in the highest moment of excitement ; which makes 
us feel their entire weight. The Prussians, and with them 
the Protestant part of Germany, thus obtained for their 
literature a treasure which the opposite party lacked, and 
the want of which no exertion afterwards enabled them to 

The great names of Klopstock and Lessing now ap- 
peared on the scene of German literature, and the reign of 
the Gottsched school was at an end. Klopstock threw into 
his poem the " Messiah," the whole power of his grand 
genius; and the effect he produced on German literature 
was deep and permanent. Lessing began to write when 
Gottsched's throne was tottering ; and the restless life which 
animated all his writings was the very element still wanting 
to procure the fall of pedantry and aflFectation. The 
Gottinger Dichterbund (Gottingen Poetical Society), formed 
in 1772, is interesting firom the association of its members 
with the ^^ Musen Almanache^^ (Almanacks of the Muses), 
which appeared at intervals throughout a series of years ; one 


series being edited for a long period by Burger, the cele- 
brated author of " Lenore." The founders of this society 
were a number of young Gottingen students. Foremost 
among them stood Vosa, Bote, Holty, Miller, Ewald, Hahn, 
and Burger. Admiration of Klopstock and Lessing was the 
bond which first united these young spirits, and one of their 
earlie^ meetings was devoted to a celebration of the great 
poet's birthday. Detestation of Wieland, " the corrupter of 
morals," as they called him, was almost as powerful with 
tliem as the other feeling, and at the banquet in question a 
copy of the obnoxious poet's works was publicly torn, and 
the leaves, whimsically enough, used for pipelights. The 
merry meetings of the Gottingen Society were soon inter- 
rupted by the more serious avocations of life. The young 
poets were quickly obliged to give up their golden dreams 
of song under the pressure of impending necessity. Poverty 
was the lot of the majority of them ; and even Biii^er was 
for a long time subjected to the pressure of want. Some of 
the most gifted members of the fraternity died young ; the 
rest were scattered here and there by fortune; and the 


both of Goethe and Schiller a number of songs are scat- 
tered, which are too well known and appreciated to need 

The writings of the romantic school of poets, who 
flourished at the commencement of the present century, 
contain a number of good songs. The war of liberation 
in Germany called forth a number of patriotic lays, most of 
them formed more or less on the model of Komer's 
admirable lyrics. SchenkendorfF, Amim, EichendorfF, 
Kleist, and more than all, Moritz Amdt, are representatives 
of this school of song writers. When the contest against the 
power of Napoleon had ended with the downfall of the 
French emperor, the fiery enthusiasm which had vented 
itself in songs of defiance and hate towards the foreign 
invader unfortunately sought an outlet in the production of 
songs of an inflammatory and revolutionary tendency 
These songs are in general blatant and weak, magniloquent 
indeed in expression, but lacking that earnestness and depth 
which gave force to Komer's lyrics. They were, however, 
considered sufficiently dangerous to ensure the expatriation 
of several young poets, and the suspension firom his ofiice 
even of such a man as Amdt. ^ Political songs are now for- 
bidden in the vocal associations of Germany — a circum- 
stance to be regretted in many respects. The songs 
written during the war with Napoleon are far superior 
to any produced during the Gleim period. They bear 
the stamp of reality, are less burdened with bombast than 
were their predecessors, and have evidently been called 
forth by real enthusiasm. As specimens may be cited 
Komer's "Battle Prayer," Aradt's song "Der Gott der 


Eisen wachsen liess," and SchenkendorfTs " Erhebt euch 
VOD der Erde." 

It is amoug the poets of the laat forty years, however, 
that we must look for the best song writers. Uhland, 
G. Schwab, Mayer, Riickert, J. Kemer, Platen, Geibel, 
Herwegh, Heine, have contributed pleutifully to the fund 
of German song in all its departments. One writer whose 
songs deserve greater attention in England than has yet 
been awarded to them, is worthy of especial mention. 'Ihb 
is Robert Reinick, the punter and poet, who died in 
1850. No man has been so happy as Reinick in por- 
traying the emotions of trusting and innocent aifection. 
His songs are redolent, moreover, of the corn-field and the 
green-wood ; and his " Lieder und Bilder," enriched by 
illustrations contributed by some of the first artists in DusseU 
dorff, are well worthy the perusal of the student. 

Sdiliisiri m6> ^alriotit Songs. 

Tee military songs ^ren as specimens of tlus department 
are all more or less modern. The songs of the period of the 
Thirty Years' War, though almost uiiiumerable, are generally 
too long for translation, or do not offer any point of interest. 
They belong, moreover, rather to a collection of "Historical 
Popular Ballads," than to the division of war sonp. The 
revolutionary productions of 1848 (Barrikadenlieder) have 
been entirely omitted. They are mostly formed upon the 
basis of Komer, and would scarcely be considered an 
acquisition^ A greater number of Korner's songs might 
have been giveij, but his productions have already found 


(§nin (Sintntkni hn tfgnai&t.) 

DaU and Avttior nncerli^ 

Soldiers are coming, good people, be gay ! 
SingiDg we greet ye — hurrah — sa — sa — sa ! 

Come from the German land, 

As you all understand, 
Take up our quarters so gleesome with you. 

Strengthening fare and a welcoming glance, 
More than rare dainties, our pleasures enhance ; 

When we to drink begin, 

Host, in our song join in — 
*' Health to the soldier, and health to our land." 


Germans are merry, are ready and right. 
Gallant to maidens, and keen in the fight ; 
Warmly their blood doth flow- 
Kiss, wine, and battle-glow, 
True word they love, and a boisterous song. 

Maidens, I warn ye, your hearts guard aright, 
Love oft steals in like a thief in the night ! 

When we at mom depart, 

Many a lonely heart. 
Many a tearful eye follows our track* 

Home hath the soldier none where he may rest ; 
Here he's to-day, there to-morrow a guest ; — 

Home and love change we all, 

Till the pale reaper's call 
To our last head quarters bids us away* 


fUSTIG ihr Leute, Soldaten sind da ! 
Griissen euch singend, Juchheira — sa — sa ! 
Sind aus dem Deutschen Land, 
Wie euch gar wohl bekannt, 
Kommen fein lustig zu euch ins Quartier. 

Nahrhafte Kost und ein frohes Gesicht, 
Geht uns weit iiber ein kostlich Gericht ;— 

Bringt man den Trunk herein, 

Stimme der Wirth mit ein, 
Hoch lebe Deutschland, hoch leV der Soldal 


Teutache sind munter, sind iminer bereit, 
Sanft bei den Madchen, erfahren im Streit, 

Lieben mit heissem Bltit, 

Kuss, Wein, und Kriegesglut, 
Traulichea Wort, und ein frohliches Lied. 

Madchen, icli sag' euch, nehmt's Herzchen in Acht, 
Liebe kommt oft wie der Dieb id der Nacht, 

Wenn's Morgen weiter geht, 

Manche wohl einsam steht, 
Schauet betriibt und voll Thranen uns nach. 

Denn der Soldat hat nie Rube noch Bast, 
Heut ist er bier, und dort morgen zu Gaat ; 
Lieb' und Ort wechseln wir, 

Bis uns ins Hauptquarder 
Einstens der knocherne Sensemann nifl. 



Up, up, brave comrades ! — to horse, to horse ! 

To the field where we freedom merit ! 
Where still is v&lued the brave man's force, — 

Where we weigh in the scale his spirit ! 
In war no man for his ftiend may stand, 
Where each one fights for his own right hand. 
CW. In war no man, Ac 


All freedom hath fled from this world of guile^ 

But tyrants and ser& remaining ; 
Now flourish lying and treason vile, 

O'er cowardly mortals reigning. 
Who looks on death with unblenehing brow, 
The soldier alone is the free man now I 
ChoT. Who looks on death, &c. 

The troubles of life he away hath thrown, 

Small need his for care or sorrow ; 
To meet his fate he rides boldly on, 

It may be to-day or to-morrow. 
It may be to-morrow ; then let us to-day 
To the dregs quafl* the goblet of time while we may I 
Chor^ It may be to-morrow, &c. 

Our merry lot from the sky falls down, 

We seek not to fill our measure ; 
The bondman grubs in the earth so brown. 

Still weening to lift a treasure ; 
He digs and shovels till hfe is past. 
And digs but a trench for his grave at last. 
Clwr. He digs and shovels, &c. 

The trooper bold, and his steed so gay, 

Are hated guests and dreaded ; 
Where the bride-lamps gleam he will find his way. 

Unasked, to the feast of the wedded ; 
Nor shows he money, nor long he'll plead ; 
With his sword, like a soldier, he'll gain his meed. 
(7/tOr. Nor shows he money, &c. 


Why weep'st thou, maiden ? — ^what grieves thee so ? 

Let him go, let him go, I pray thee ; 
He owns no home in this earth below, 

Nor love nor troth can he pay thee. 
His rapid fortune tears him away. 
And therefore his heart with none may stay. 
Ohor. His rapid fortmie, &c. 

Then up, brave comrades, and saddle and ride, 

For the fight each bold heart beating ; 
Youth rolls through our veins life's foaming tide, — 

Up ! ere time quench the spirit fleeting : 
And whoso casts not his life in the scale. 
To win life's gladness shall surely fail ! 

Chor, And whoso casts not his life in the scale, 
To win life's gladness shall surely iail. 


^f^OHLAUT, Kameraden, auf 's Pferd, auf's Pferd, 

In's Feld, in die Freiheit gezogen ! — 
Im Felde, da ist der Mann noch was werth, 

Da wird das Herz noch gewogen ; 
Da tritt kein And'rer fur ihn ein, 
Auf sich selber steht er da, ganz allein. — 
Chor. Da tritt kein And'rer, &c. 

Aus der Welt die Freiheit verschwunden ist, 

Man sieht nur Herren und Knechte ; 
Die Falschheit herrscht, und die Hinterlist 

Bei dem feigen Menschengeschlechte ; 




Der dem Tod in's Angesicht schauen kaim, 
Der Soldat allein ist der freie Mann. 

Chor. Der dem Tod in's Angesicht, &c. 

Des Lebens Aengsten er wirft sie weg, 
Hat nicht mehr zu furchten, zu sorgen, 

Er reitet dem Schicksal entgegen keck, 

Triflft's heut nicht, trifft es doch morgen ; 

Und triffi es morgen, so lasset uns heut, 

Noch schliirfen die Neige der kostlichen Zelt. 
Qhor. Und trifit es morgen, &c. 

Von dem Himmel fallt ihm sein lustig Loos, 
Braucht's nicht mit Miih zu erstreben ; 

Der Frohner der sucht's in der Erde Schoos, 
Da meint er den Schatz zu erheben ; 

Er grabt und schaufelt so lang er lebt, 

Und grabt, bis er endlich sein Grab sich grabt. 
Ohor, Er grabt und schaufelt, &c. 

Der Reiter und sein geschwindes Boss, 

Sie sind gefurchtete Giiste ; 
Es flimmem die Lampen im Hochzeitschloss 

Ungeladen kommt er zum Feste ; 
Er wirbt nicht lange, er zeigt kein Gold, 
Im Sturm erringt er der Minne Sold. 

Chor. Er wirbt nicht lange, &c. 

Warum weinet die Dim' und zergramt sich scliier. 

Lass fahren dahin, lass fahren, 
Er hat auf Erden kein bleibend quartier, 

Kann treue Lieb' nicht bewahren ; 


Das rasche Schicksal es treibt ihn fort, 
Seine Buhe lasst er an keinem Ort 

Chor. Das rasche Schicksal, ke* 

Drum fnsch Kameraden, den Happen gezaumt. 

Die Brust im Gtefechte geliiftet ; 
Die Jugend brauset, das Leben schaumt, 

Frisch auf, eh' der Geist uns verdiiftet ; 
Und setzet ihr nicht das Leben ein, 
Nie wird euch das Leben gewonnen seyn. 
Chor. Und setzet ihr nicht das Leben ein, 

Nie wird euch das Leben gewonnen seyiL 




{(Std (^bttlgaxb itx (Sxtmtx ban WLMmbtXfj. — ]^xitp\ui.) 


Tb ! — ^ye, there, in the world without. 

Lift not your heads so grand ! 
Men hath it borne, and heroes stout, 
Alike for peace or battle-rout, — 

Our gallant Swabian land ! 

Boast of your Edward, Fred'ric, Charles, 

And Ludwig as ye might, 

Charles, Fred'ric, Ludwig, Edward too, 

Was Eberhard, our count so true, — 

A tempest in the fight. 

Q 2L 


The county's boy, young Ulric, too. 

Loved well the iron clang ; 
The county's boy, young Ulric, too, 
No footfall backward ever drew, 

Where men to saddle sprang. 

The Reutlingers brew'd vengeance-pain 

To see our names so bright ; 
And strove the victor's wreath to gain, 
And many a sword-dance dared maintcin. 
And drew their girdles tight. 

He gave them war, — beshrew the fight 

Whence beaten home he came ! 
The father's brow was black as night, — 
The youthful warrior fled the light, 
And wept for very shame. 

That galPd him : " Ah, ye knaves, beware ! " 

(And kept it in his soul) — 
** Now by my father's beard I swear 
To grind the notch my sword doth bear 

On many a townsman's poll ! " 

Nor long the time ere rose a feud : 

Forth sallied horse and man ; 
Toward Doflingen the army stood, 
And brighter grew the younker's mood, 
And hot the fight began. 


The watchword to our men that day 
Was given — " the ill-starr'd fight" — 

That drove us like the storm away, 

And lodged us deep in bloody fray, 
And in the lances' night. 

Our youthful Count, with lion's wrath, 

Swung high his hero-glaive ; 
Wild battle-roar before his path, 
Wailing and groans his feet beneath. 

And all around — ^the grave. 

But woe ! ah, woe ! a ghastly sword 

Fell heavy on his head ; 
The hero-band surround their lord 
In vsdn ; young Ulric on the sward 

With glassy eyes lay dead. 

Then horror stayed the battle's plan. 

Tears from all eyes 'gan flow ; 
But ho ! — the Count to charge began— 
" My son is as another man ; 

March, children, on the foe ! " 

And fiercer rageth now the fight, 

For vengeance spurs them well ; 
Forth o'er the corpses goes their might. 
And townsmen flying left and right 

O'er forest, hill, and dell. 


And btythely all our clarions rang 

When to OUT camp hied we ; 
And wives and children gaily sang, 
'Mid dances' whirl and beaker-klang, 

To praise our victorj^ 

But Eberhard, what doth he here? 

Before him lies his son ; 
Within his tpnt, no mortal near, 
The Count hath dropt one sparkling tear 

That silent form upon. 

Therefore, with love so true and warm, 

Around the Count we stand ; 
Alone, he is a hero-swarm — 
The thunder rageth in his arm, — 

The star of Swabian land. 

Then, ye there in the world without, 

Lift not your heads so grand ! 
Men hath it borne, and heroes stout, 
Alike in peace and battle-rout. 

Our gallant Swabian land. 

Bberhard, of Wiirtemberg, called the "Weeper," and " der BaTt8chel)art^'* 
the " Busde-beard," and his son Ulric, are tbe heroes of many German ballada. 
Uhland has related several incidents of their lives in a series of short poems, 
one of which, ''Die DoflEinger Schlacht,'* records the death of Ulric and the 
firmness of his father. The following verse occurs : — 

" * Da m|fc der alte Becke den nichts erschiittem kann, 
Erschreckt nicht, der gefallen ist wie ein andrer Mann. 
Schlagt drein ! — die Feinde fliehen 1 * — Er raft's mit Donnerlaut ; 
Wie rauscht sein Bart im Winde 1 hei ! wie der Eber hant." 



(per nUc ^ehii an Etiiun Sllnitltl.) 

Tuon cloak now thirty years 
art eld, 
Hast tempest seen ere 

Sli1I to me like a brother 

And when round us the battle 
was ringing, 
Then trembled nor I nor 

-^ We've lain together many a 
While wet to the skin 
were we ; 
Old Mend, thou hast wanned 

me bravely, 
And what on my heart press'd 
I've trusted, my cloak, 
to thee. 

Tbou ne'er hast wronged my 
IRiou still wert good and 
true ; 
In nowise hast thou«ifended. 
So, cloak, I'll not have thee mended; 
I would not see thfee new. 


An' if they please all men may laugh^ 

I'll prize Uiee, spite of all ; 
For where thou art torn and tattered 
Thou'st been by the bullets batter'd — 

Each hole is there for a ball. 

And when the last ball comes one day 

My German heart to wound, 
Dear cloak, let them spread thee o'er me: 
'Tis the last thing thou'lt do for me; 

In thee they shall wrap me round. 

There will we sleep together. 

Till the "reveille" in the grave: 

The " reveille" with life will inspire us, 

Therefore am I so desirous 

My Mthful old cloak to have. 

This b an i^ song, well known in Qermanj. Seven! texts eiiat, Ruse 
of Iheoi comprijDng more vereee thBn the form here givea, wMcli Rnk 
{" JIitaikaliBclier HanSBchatz der Dentechen ") eonsidera the oldeet. L. Bik, in 
ioM collection of Geiman popul&r Honga, hea given eeveral of Uieee te 



J. Eebhib. 

All their wealth and vast possessions 
Vaiunting high in choicest terms, 

Sat the German princes feasting 
In the knightly hall of Worms. 

" Mighty," cried the Saxon ruler, 

" Are the wealth and power I wield; 

In my country's mountain gorges 
Sparkling silver lies concealed," 

" See my land with plenty glowing," 
Quoth the Palsgrave of the Rhine; 

" Beauteous harvests in the valleys, 
On the mountains noble wine." 

" Spacious towns and wealthy convents,** 
Lewis spake, Bavaria's lord, 

** Make my land to yield me treasures 
Great as those your fields afford." 

Wiirtemberg's beloved monarch, 
Eberhard the Bearded, cried — 

** See, my land hath little cities, 
'Mong my hills no metals bide : 


** Yet one treasure it hath borne me : — 
Sleeping in the woodland free, 

I may lay my head in safety 

On my lowliest vassal's knee." 

Then, as with a single utt'rance, 
Cried aloud those princes three : 

*' Bearded Count, thy land hath jewels ! 
Thou art wealthier far than we !" 


REISEND mit viel schonen Reden, 
Ihrer Lander Werth und Zahl, 
Sassen viele Teutsche Fiirsten 
Einst zu Worms im Rittersaal. 

*' Herrlich," sprach der Fiirst von Sachsen, 
"1st mein Land und seine, Macht ; 

Silber hegen seine Berge 

Wohl in manchem tiefen Schacht." 

*' Seht mein Land in upp'ger Fiille,'^ 
Sprach der Pfalzgraf von dem Rhein ; 

** Gold 'ne Saaten in den Thalern, 
Auf den Bergen edler Wein." 

*' Grosse Stadte, reiche Kloster,'* 

Ludwig, Herr zu Bayern, sprach,-— 

*' Schaffen, dass mein Land dem euren, 
Wohl nicht steht an Schatzen nach." 



Eberhard, der mit dem Bartc, 

Wiirtemberg's geliebter Herr, 
Sprach, " Mein Land hat kleine Stadte, 

Tragt nicht Berge silber-schwer. 

" Doch ein Kleinod halt's verborgen ; — 

Dass in Waldem noch so gross, 
Ich mein Haupt kann kuhnlich legeu, 

Jedem Unterthan in Schoss." 

Und es rief der Herr von Sachsen, 
Der von Bayem, der vom Rhein : 

" Graf im Bart, ihr seid der Reichste, 
Euer Land tragt Edelstein ! " 

Jnstinns Kerner, bom September 18, 1786, at Ludwigsburg, is the author 
of many ot the most popular songs of Germany. His works extend over a 
period of more thau forty years, the first publication of his poems dating from 
the year 1811 ; thei last collectiou having been made in 1852. If we judge 
Eemer by the popularity obtained by some of his lyrics, a high poutiou must 
be assigned to him among the song writers of Germany. The foregoing song, 
and a " Wanderlied/' beginning " Wohlauf noch getronken deu funkelnden 
Wein," have become ndt-ional property. 




Period of the Seven Years' War. 

There's naught so gay this earth can yield, 

Nor aught so swift and light, 
As are we hussars, when we're afield, 

Or rushing through the fight. 
When it roars and cracks like thunder-sound^ 

Then shoot we red as rose ; 
When blood is spurting all around, 

'Tis then our courage glows ! 

Prime ye your pistols — ride ye on, 

Now, brave hussars, away ; 
Draw sword, and down with every one 

Who standeth in your way ! 
You understand not Frenchman's speech-^ 

Your care need not be great ; — 
Lads, he'll have little time to preach 

The while you cleave his pate ! 

What though in any gallant fight 

My comrade brave should fall ; 
That ne'er shall damp our courage light — 

Stand we not ready all ? — 
Our body moulders in the tomb, 

Our garb on the earth shall lie ; 
Our soul shall speed to its heavenly home, 

Aloft in the bright blue sky ! 


11 III 1 

WuLiBAUi Alexis. 
FkedekicuS Rex, our king and lord, 
To all of his soldiers " To arms ! " gave the word ; 


**Two hundred battalions, a thousand squadrons here !" 
And he gave sixty cartridges to each grenadier, 

" You rascally fellows," his majesty began, 

" Look that each of you stands for me in battle like a man ; 

They're grudging Silesia and Glatz to me, 

And the hundred millions in my treasury. 

" The Empress with the French an alliance has signed,' 
And raised the Soman kingdom against me, I find; 
The Rus^ns my territories do inTacfe, 
Up, and stkom 'em of what atisff we Prussians are made. ' 

" My generals, Schwerin, and Field-marshal Von Kelt, 
And Major-general Ziethen, are all ready quite. 
By the thunders and lightnings of battle, I 
They don't know Fritz and his soldiers now. 

" Now finrewcU, Lotiisa ; Louisa^ dry your eyes j 
Not straight to its mark er'ry btillet Ifies ; ^ 
For if aU the bullets should kill all the men. 
From whence should we kings get our wMSien tlien T 

^' The musket bullet makes a Httle round hole, 
A much larger wound both the cannon ball dole ; 
The bullets are all of iron and lead, 
Yet many a bullet misses many a head. 

" Our guns they are heavy and well supplied, 
Not one of the Prussians to the foe hath hied ; 
The Swedes they have cursed bad money, I trow ; 
If the Austrians have better, who can know ? 


" The French king pays his soldiers at his ease, 
We get it, stock and stiver, every week, if we please; 
By the thunders and the lightnings of battle, I say. 
Who gets like the Prussian so promptly his pay?" 

Fredericus, my king, whom the laurel doth grace, 
Hadst thou but now and then let us plunder some place 
Fredericus, my hero, I verily say. 
We'd drive for thee the devil from the world away. 


^^EDERICTJS REX, unser Konig und Herr, 
^1 Der rief seine Soldaten allsammt in's Gewehr, 
" Zwei hundert Batallions, an die tausend Schwadi'onen,'' 
Und jeder Grenadier kriegte sechzig Patronen. 

" Ihr vertrackten Kerls," sprach seine Majestat, 
" Dass jeder in der Bataille seinen Mann mir steht 
Sie gonnen nrir nicht Schlesien und die Grafschaft Glatz^ 
Und die hundert Millionen in meinem Schatz. 

" Die Kais'rin hat sich mit den Franzosen alliirt 
Und das romische Reich gegen mich revoltirt ; 
Die Russen seind gefallen in Preussen ein ; 
Auf, lasst uns zeigen dass wir Preussen sein. 

" Meine Generale Schwerin, und Feld-marschall Keith, 
Und der General-major von Ziethen sind allemal bereit, 
Potz Mohren, Blitz, Hagel, und Ereuz Element,* 
Wer den Fritz und seine Soldaten noch nicht kennt. 

* The reader will peroeive that this line has not been translated lUerally, 


''•llan adjo, Lowise, Lowise wisch ab dein Gresicht, 
Jedwedige Kugel die triflft ja nicht ; 
Denn trafe jedwedige Kugel ihren Mann, 
Wo kriegten wir Konige Soldaten dann. 

" Die Musketenkugel macht ein kleines rundes Loch 
Die Kanonenkugel macht ein viel grosseres noch, 
Die Kugeln sind alle von Eisen und Blei, 
Und manche Kugel geht manchem vorbei. 

"XJns're Artillerie hat ein vortrefflich Kaliber, 
Von den Preussen geht Keiner zu dem Feinde iiber ; 
Die Schweden die haben verd — t schlechtes Geld, 
Wer weiss ob's der Oestreicher besser halt." 


Fredericus Rex, den der Lorbeer-kranz ziert, 
Hattest du nur dann und wann das Plundern permittirt, 
Fredericus Rex, mein Konig und Held 
Wir jagten den Teufel fiir dich aus der Welt. 




(Sitgts-Iieb nac^ ber Sc^lac^t hti ^mg.) 


Victoria ! with us is God, 

Low lies the haughty foe ! 
He lieth low — just is our God ! 

Victoria ! he lies low. 

What though our father be no more r 

He died a hero's death ; 
From starry dome he looketh o'er 

Our conq'ring host beneath. 

The noble vet' ran hied away 

For God and fatherland, 
His aged head was scarce so gray 

As gallant was his hand ! 

With youthful fire his men he led, 

And a standard grasped he ; 
Swung it aloft above his head, 

That every man might see. 

And, " Children, to the hill !'' he cried: 

" 'Gainst cannon and redoubt !'* 
Then man by man, and side by side, 

Like lightning rushed we out. 

But there, alas ! our father fell ; 
He lay his flag beneath. 


Oh, what a glorious tale to tell ! 
Schwerin — ^what happy death ! 

Thy Frederick hath wept for thee, 
E'en while he gave command; 

For vengeance on the enemy 
Forth sallied all our band. 

Thou, Henry, bor'st thee soldierly, 
Thou fought'st in kingly wise ; 

At ev'ry gallant deed, to thee. 
Thou lion, turned our eyes. 

Markers, and Pomeranians, too. 
Fought there like Christians stout ; 

Their swords were red ; at every blow 
The Pandours' blood gushed out. 

From seven redoubts, in our career, 
The bearskin caps we chased ; 

There, Frederick, thy grenadier. 
O'er corse-heaps onward passed*. 

Deep in the murd'rous strife he thought 
Of God, of home, and thee; 

Nor 'mid the death-cloud could he aught 
But thee, his Fred'rick, see. 

Then trembled he, and 'mid the strife 
His face hath fiery grown ; 

He trembled, Fred'rick, for thy life, 
He recked not of his own. 


The batde-tempest scorned he still, 

The cannon thund'ring high ; 
And fiercer yet he fought, until 

The foemen turned to fly. 

The God of might now thauketh he, 

And sings Victoria ; 
And may this day's dark slaughter be 

On thee, Theresia. 

And if, the treaty to defer, 

She still should find pretext, 
Then, Fred'rick, storm thou Prague for her, 

And on to Vienna next ! 

The war-Bongs of Gleim, written to aid the cause of Frederick the Ghreat 
in the Seven Years* War, are all disfigured by a bombastic, hollow tone. 
Goethe acconn^ for the high estimation in which they were held by the &ct 
that these lyrics all appear to be produced by one of the combatants, in all the 
fervonr of a first enthusiasm. Other poets besides Gleim employed their muse 
to sing the praises of Frederick, with more or less success. Among these 
courtly writers may be mentioned Y. Eleist Bamler, Willamov, Schubart, and 
Cronengk. Nor was the party of Maria Theresii destitute of its poetical staff, 
who endeavoured to turn into ridicule Frederick and the trumpeters of his 
fume. The last stanza of the above song has been parodied by Bautenbach^ the 
poct-in-chief ot the Imperialists, in the following words: — 

" Erlaubst du es, so dringen wir 
Hervor, bis nach Berlin, 
Und fragen : * "Warum gehet ihr, 
Ihr Feinde! nicht nach Wien?'" 
Which may be rendered: — 

** With thy permission, purpose we 
To travel to Berlin, 
And ask : * Now wherefore march not ye, 
Ye foes, to Vienna in ? ' " 

It has been truly obsei'ved, '* Had not the PruEsians had their songs of ' Prince 
Eugene,' and ' The Battle of Prague,* Gleim*s lyrics would scarcely liavo kept 
the memory of Frederick's campaigns alive among the people." 



. Anohtmous. 

When the Prussians they marched against Prague, 

^Gainst Prague, the beauteous town, — 

They took up in camp a position, 

They brought with them much ammunition ; — 

They brought their cannons to bear — 

Schwerin was the leader there! 

And forth rode Prince Henry then, 

With his eighty thousand men. 

" My army all would I give, now, 

If that Schwerin did but live now. 

What an ill, what a terrible ill. 

That Schwerin they should shoot and kill !'* 

The trumpeter was then sent down, 
To ask if they'd give up the town. 
Or if it by storm must be taken ? — 
In the townsmen no fear did this waken ; 
Their city they would not give in ; 
The cannonade must needs begin. — 

Now, who hath made this little song ? 

To three Hussars it doth belong ; 

In Seidlitz corps they enlisted, 

In the army that Prague invested.^ 

0, Victory, hurrah, hurrah ! 

Old Fritz was there himself that day. 


C^ LS die Preussen marschirten vor Prag, 
(^ Vor Prag die schone Stadt, — 
Sie haben ein Lager geschlagen, 
Mit Pulver und mit Blei ward's betragen, 
Kanonen wurden drauf gefiihrt, 
Schwerin hat sie da kommandirt 

Da riickte Prinz Heinrich heran, 

Wohl gar mit achtzigtausend Mann. 

" Mein ganzes Heer woUt ich drum geben, 

Wenn mein Schwerin noch war' am Leben. 

Noth, o Noth, o grosse Kriegesnoth, 

Schwerin der ist geschossen todt." 

Drauf schickten sie ein'n Trompeter 'nein, 
Ob sie Prag wollten geben ein, 
Oder ob sie's soUten beschiessen ? — 
Die Burger liessen's sich nicht verdriessen, 
Sie wollten die Stadt nicht geben ein, 
Es sollt' und musst' geschossen seyn. — . 

Wer hat dies Liedelein erdacht, 
Es haben's drei Husaren gemacht,— 
Unter Seidlitz sind sie gewesen, 
Bei Prag selbst mit gewesen. 
Sieg, Sieg ! hurrah, hurrah ! 
Der alte Fritz war selber da. 

Military songs by anonymons authors are common thronghoat the wars uf 
Frederick the Great. The rough effusion given aboye, and another of the same 
character, describing the taking of Belgrade by Frinoe Eugene, hare retamed 
their popularity to the present day. 




Fathbe, I cry to thee ! 
Cannon smoke rolleth in clouds o'er me roaring, 
War's jetted lightnings around me are pouring; 


Lord of the battle, I cry to th 
Father, oh lead thou me !' 

Father, oh lead thou me ! 
Lead me as victor, by death when Fm riven. 
Lord, I acknowledge the law thou hast given ;, 
E'en as thou wilt. Lord, so lead thou me — 

God, I acknowledge thee ! 

God, I acknowledge thee ! 
So when the autumn leaves rustle around me, 
So when the thunders of battle surround me, 
Fountain of grace, I acknowledge thee — 

Father, oh bless thou me ! 

Father, oh bless thou me ! 
Into thy care commend I my spirit ; 
Thou canst reclaim what from thee I inherit i 
Living or dying, stiU bless thou me- 

Father, I worship thee ! 

Father, I worship thee t 
Not for earth's riches thy servants are fighting, 
Holiest cause with our swords we are rightini; * 
Conq'ring or falling, I worship thee — 

God, I submit to thee ! 

God, I submit to thee ! 
When all the terrors of death are asntiling,, 
When in my veins e'en the life blood is fiuliag^ 
Lord, unto thee will I bow the knee L-^ 

Father, I cry to thee ! 




'ATER, ich nife dich ! 
Brullend umwolkt mich der Dampf 
der Geschiitze; 
Spriihend umzucken mich rasselnde Blitze ! 
licnker der Schlachten, ich rufe dich ! 
Vater, du fiihre mich ! 

Vater, du fiihre mich ! 
Fiihr mich zum Siege, fiihr mich zum Tode ! 
Herr, ich erkenne deine Gebote ; 
Herr, wie du willst, so fiihre mich ! 

Gott, ich erkenne dich ! 

Gott, ich erkenne dich ! 
So im herbsdichen Rauschen der Blatter, 
Als im Schlachtendonnerwetter ; 
Urquell der Gnade erkenn' ich dich ! 

Vater, du segne mich ! 

Vater, du segne mich ! 
In deine Hande befehl ich mein Leben ; 
Du kannst es nehmen, du hast es gegeben ; 
Zum Leben, zum Sterben, segne mich ! 

Vater, ich preise dich ! 

Vater, ich preise dich ! 
S'ist ja kein Kampf fiir die Giiter der Erde, 
Das Heiiigste schiitzen wer mit dem Schwerdie : 
Drum, fellend und siegend, preis' ich dich ! 

Gott, dir ergeb' ich mich ! 


Gott, dir ergeb' ich mich! 
Wenn mich die Donner des Todes begriissou, 
Wenn meine Adem geofihet fliessen : 
Dir, mein Gott, dir ergeb^ ich mich ! 

Vater, ich rufe dich ! 

Thxodob EdmntB, the poet-hero of the '* War of Liberation,*' was bom 
September 21st, 1791, at Dresden, studied at the Uniyersity of Leipzig, and 
xeceived an appointment as theatrical poet at Vienna. On the breaking out of 
the war against Napoleon, he enlisted as ayolonteer in Lutzow*s corps, aiding- 
the cause of freedom by the strength of his arm and the power of his muse. 
On the 26th of August, 1813, he fell in a skirmish near the village of Gfade- 
basch. The fiery tone pervading his lyrics, and the brilliant valour of the 
young volunteer, have procured him a greater £une in Germany than usually 
falls to the share of one who died so young. *' The fatal bullet," says 
'Godecke, ''deprived them of a man, but left to the youth of Germany the 
inspiriting recollection of a hero." 


B. M. AB5DT. 

What is the German's fatherland ? — 

Is it Prussian land, or Swabian land ? 

Where the grape-vine glows on the Rhenish strand ? 

Where the seagull flies o'er the Baltic sand ? — 

Ah, no ! — ah, no ! 

His fatherland must greater be, I trow. 

What 18 the German's fatherland ? — 
Bavarian land, or Styrian land ? 


Now Austria it needs must be, 
So rich in fame and victory. 

Ah, no ! — ah, no ! 

His fatheriand must greater be, I trow* 

What is the German's fatherland ? — 
Pom'ranian land, Westphalian land ? 
Where o'er the sea-flats the sand is blown ? 
Where the mighty Danube rushes on? — 

Ah, no ! — ^ah, no ! 

His fatherland must greater be, I trow. 

What is the German's fatherland ? — 

Say thou the name of the mighty land ! 

Is't Switzerland, or Tyrol, tell ; — 

The land and the people pleased me well ! — 

Ah, no ! — ^Ah, no ! 

His fatherland must greater be, I trow. 

What is the German's fatherland ? — 
Name thou at length to me the land ! — 
Wherever in the German tongue. 
To God in heaven hymns are sung ; — 
That shall it be, — that shall it be : 
That, gallant German, is for thee ! 

That is the German's fatherland. 
Where binds like an oath the grasped hand,— 
Where from men's eyes truth flashes forth, 
Where in men's hearts are love and worth !— 

That shall it be ! — that shall it be ; 

That, gallant German, is for thee ! 


It IS the wlwle of Germany ! 

Look, Lord, rhereon, we pray to thee I — 

Let German spirit in us dwell, 

That we may love it true and well ! — 

That shall it be, — ^that shall it be ! 

The whole, the whole of Germany I 


il^'V AS ist des Deutschen Vaterland ?— 

Ist's Preussen-land, ist's Schwabenland ? — 
Ist's wo am Rhein die Rebe gliiht ? 
Ist's wo am Belt die Move zieht ? — 
nein, nein, nein, nein ! 
Sein Vaterland muss grosser sein. 

Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland ? — 
Ist's Baier-land, ist's Steier-land, 
Gewiss ist es das Oesterreich, 
An Siegen und an Ehren reich ? — 

nein, nein, nein, nein ! 

Sein Vaterland muss grosser sein. 

Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland ? — 
Ist's Pommer-land, Westphalen-land ? 
Ist's wo der Sand der Diinen weht ? 
Ist's wo die Donau brausend geht ?— 

nein, nein, nein, nein ! 

Sein Vaterland muss grosser sein. 

Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland 2— 
So nenne mir das grosse Land ! 


Ist's Land der Schweitzer? Ist's Tyrol ? 
Das Land und Volk gefiel mir wohl ! 

nein, nein, nein, nein, 

Sein Vaterland muss grosser sein. 

Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland ? 
So nenne endlich mir das Land ! 
So weit die deutsche Zunge klingt, 
Und Gott im Himmel Lieder singt. — 

Das soil es sein ! Das soil es sein ! 

Das, wack'rer Deutsche, nenne dein ! 

Das ist des Deutschen Vaterland — 
Wo Eide schwort der Druck der Hand ; — 
Wo Wahrheit aus dem Auge blitzt, 
Und Liebe warm im Herzen sitzt ; — 

Das soil es sein ! Das soil es sein ! 

Das, wack'rer Deutsche nenne dein. 

Das ganze Deutschland soil es sein I 
Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein ! 
Und gieb uns echten Deutschen Muth, 
Dass wir es lieben treu und gut. 

Das soil es sein ! Das soil es sein ! 

Das ganze Deutschland soil es sein ! 

Next to Edmer, who may be denominated the patriotic song-writer of 
Germany ''par excellence^'* the man who by his lyrics exerted the greatest 
influence over the spirit of the German youth during the early portion of the 
present century was Ebnst Moritz Arndt. This poet was bom in 1779, at 
Schoritz, and during ten years of his early life occupied the post of professor in 
the little university of Grei&walde. An ardent admirer of Bonaparte at the 
outset of the conqueror^s career, Amdt's feelings towards the overtumer of 
dynasties underwent a total and natural change during the p^od of the sab- 

jagatlauof GennAnj. InhigiroTk the "(Jeiat der Zdt" (Spirit of (he dne), 
pnblished in 1807, Amdt itutled aad terrified the wbola of Qtmnaaj b; hi* 
denanciatioiis of the emperar'g plane, and b; the fearleai Tehemenoe with 
vhich he declumed ogiiinst Bonap&rte'a noKnipDloas proceediaga. An Oidet 
to orreat Amdt vu rendered hnitleaa Ijj the flight of the poet to Sweden, 
where he liyed (or a time under the protection of OuataTiu Adolphus IV., 
ontil the deat^ of that monarch forced the proscribed pamphleteer into itill 
deeper TetJiement. Under the protection of a complete digguiie he returned to 
German; in 1812, and made the aeqoaintance of Blacher, Schamhorat, and 
Qn^aenan. When the scale of rictory at length tnmed, and the throne of 
Napoleon tottered to ita fall, Aradt did incalculable acrrlce (o hie conntrj'a 
came by the pnblication of his "War Songs" (Eri^alieder), which were mors 
potent than the proclamations of princes to inflame the courage and re&esh the 
spirits of the Germans, who declaimed and sang them lonud the evening watdi- 
Gre. Napoleon fell ; — and a few jeais afterwaida a profeeaorahip at Bona 
wai awarded to the anlhor of the war songa. But, less fortunate than Edner, 
who fell glorionsly with the Gret flush uf his martial and poeUc &me around 
him, Amdt, afber the oonclusioa of the straggle which had giTen direction and 
meaning to his poems, became inrolved in political difficnlties arising from hi* 
dennnctation of " Promises Forgotten." His papers were seised, and, until 
the year 1840, he was compelled to live in retirement. To the present king of 
Prussia is due the credit of having recalled the veteran patriot to actirity. By 
the yonth of the UnlTcrsitj he itss received with a shout of welcome. In the 
political operations of 1848, and the succeeding jear, Amdt took a part, 
(hough not a conapicnona one. His poetical and political fame rest rather on 
the efforts of his youthful than of his riper years. Buckert, Anastodns 
QrUn, Eerwegh, and others of the modern Qermon school of poed, have united 
in paying a graceful and manly tribute of piuse to the chaneter and services 
ofthe veteran bard. 



TVht sound the 43razen trumpets ? Hussars, turn ye i>iit1 

The field-marshal is riding abroad in the rout ! 

How sitteth he so lightly his steed prancing by, 

How gleameth it so brightly, his sword waved on Mgh ! 

And here the Germans are ; hurrah, and hurrah ! 

The Germans they are merry, they're shouting hurrah 1 

Oh, mark ye how his bright eyes are gleaming so kind? — 
Oh, see ye how his gray locks do wave in the wind ? — 
Like ancient wine his age blooms, so freshly and free, 
And therefore he the battle-field's guardian shall be. 
And here the Germans are, &c. 

He was the man who whilome, when none else could save. 
Still looked in trust to Heaven, and still swung the glaive ; 
And deeply by the steel then on oath did he say. 
The Frenchmen they should feel then how Germans repay. 
And here the Germans are, &c. 

He kept his oath when loudly the battle-call rang, 
Oh, how the hoary youth then to saddletree sprang ! 
Full soon his gallant band all its might made them feel. 
And swept them from the land with a besom of steel. 
And here the Germans are, &c. 

At Liitzen, in the valley, such havoc he made. 
That many a haughty Frenchman there lifeless was laid ; 
And thousands there were leaping and flying amain, 
Ten thousand there were sleeping, who wake not again. 
And here the Geimans are, &c. 


At Katzbach, on the water, was fame too for him, 
'Twas iiieisliBitai^ht the Frenchmen right deMy lo smm. 
Farewell, ye xbbcb!! IFrenchmen ; flee down to the sea, 
Your gra^FCfi, ye lawless scoundrels, the ^ribale's maw shall be ! 
And here the Germans are, &;c. 

At Wartenburg, on the Elbe, too, he harassed them so. 
Nor strong redoubt nor fortress could shelter the foe ; 
Again like timid hares o'er the field must they fly. 
While at their heels our hero came shouting his cry ! 
And here the Germans are, &c. 

At Leipsic on the plain, — oh, thrice honoured fight! 
There perished with the Frenchmen, their glory and might ; 
And here the foes lie buried, and reck not their shame. 
Here gained our gallant Blucher a field-marshal's name. 
And here the Germans are, &c. 

Then blow, ye brazen trumpets ! Hussars, turn ye out! 
Then ride, thou brave field-marshal, abroad through ftie 

To vict'ry ! to the Rhine !— o'er the Rhine then advance — 
Thou ancient, gallant sabre, light onward to France 3 
And here the Germans are, &c. 



TH KoKgM. 

^ The people rise, the 

storm 's unchMned! 

^ Who, folding his anns, 

" hath idle remained? 

Fie on thee, knave by the 

chimney stone, 
Crouching 'mid maidens 

and dames alone. 
A wretched and pitiful 

wight art thou ; 
No German mEuden will 

kiss thee now, — 
To thee no song shall 

delight Impart, 
And German wine shall 
not glad thy heart. 
Drink with mc— 

vien that he! 
Wiivhijj our broad- 
swords diecrily! 

In the stormy night, when the wind blows cold, 
In the driving rain, while our watch we hold. 



Thou canst stretch thy length in the curtain'd bod, 
Dreamily turning thy pillowed head. 

A wretched and pitiful wight, &c. 

When the trumpet's voice is heard abroad, 
Stirring our hearts like the thunder of God, 
In the theatre thou thy ease canst take, 
And hear the ditties the actors make. 

A wretched and pitiful wight, &c. 

While the burning heat of the day we bear. 
And water to quench our thirst is rare, 
'Tis thine to carouse o'er the bright champagne, 
And to load thy board till it groans again. 
A wretched and pitiful wight, &c. 

When, amid the turmoil of iron war, 
Our thoughts to our true-loves wander far, 
Thou'rt fain to fiimish thy pocket with gold, 
For a man like thee love is bought and sold. 
A wretched and pitiful wight, &c. 

Wlien bullets whistle, and lances ring, 
Wliile abroad through our line stalks the shadowy king, 
At the card-table thou thy foe canst kill. 
Vanquishing kings with the bold spadille. 
A wretched and pitiful wight, &c. 

And when in the battle our time draws near, 
Then welcome, brave death of the volunteer ! 
Beneath the coverlet death finds thee, 
Tortured by med'cine and surgery. 



Thou diest like a coward in silken bed ; 

No German maiden shall mourn thee dead,— 

A German song shall not tell thy fame, 

Nor a German wine-cup be pledged in thy napie. 

Drink with me — men that be ! 

Waving your broadswords cheerily ! 



E. M. Abndt. 

God, whb'gave iron, purposed ne'er 

That man should be a slave ; 
Therefore the sabre, sword, and spear 

In his right hand He gave. 
Therefore He gave him fiery mood. 

Fierce speech, and free-bom breath. 
That he might fearlessly the feud 

Maintain through blood and death. 

Therefore will we what God did sav. 

With honest truth, maintain, — 
And ne'er a fellow-creature slav, 

A tyrant's pay to gain 1 
But he shall perish by stroke of brand 

Who fighteth for sin and shame. 
And not inherit the German land 

With men of the German name. 


Germany ! bright fatheriand I 

German love so true ! 
Thou sacred land — ^thou beauteous land— 

We swear to thee anew ! 
Outlawed, each knave and coward shall 

The crow and raven feed ; 
But we will to the battle all — 

Revenge shall be our meed. 


Flash forth, flash forth, whatever can, 

To bright and flaming life ! 
Now, all ye Germans, man for man, 

Forth to the holy strife ! 
Your hands lift upward to the «ky — 

Tour hearts shall upward soar — 
And man for man let each one cry, 

Our slavery is o'er ! 

Let sound, let sound, whatever can, 

Trumpet and flfe and drum : 
This day our sabres, man for man. 

To stain with blood, we come ; 
With hangman's and with coward's blood, 

glorious day of ire ! 
That to all Germans soundeth good ! 

Day of our great desire ! 

Let wave, let wave, whatever can^ 

Standard and banner wave ! 
Here will we purpose, man for man, 

To grace a hero's grave. 


Advance, ye brave ranks, hardily — 
Tour banners wave on high ; 

We'll gain us freedom's victory, 
Or freedom's death we'll die ! 


5|Pl ER Gott der Eisen wachsen liess 
^^ Der woUte keine Knechte ; 
Drum gab er Sabel, Schwert und Spiess, 

Dem Mann in seine Rechte. 
Drum gab er ihm den kiihnen Muth, 

Dei^'&m der freien Rede, 
Dass er bestande bis auPs Blut 

Bis in den Tod die Fehde, 

So wollen wir, was Gott gewollt, 

Mit rechten Treuen halten, 
Und nimmer in Tyrannen-sold, 

Die Menschen-schadel spalten. 
Doch wer fur Tand und Schande ficht, 

Den hauen wir zu Scherben ; 
Der soil im Deutschen Lande nicht 

Mit Deutschen Mannern erben. 

O Deutschland, heil'ges Vaterland ! 

Deutsche Lieb' und Treue ! 
Du hohes Land ! Du schones Land 

Dir schworen wir auf s Neue : 


Dem Bubcn und dem Knecht die Acht! 

Der speise Krtih'n und Raben ! 
So ziehn wir aus zur Hermann' s-Schlacht 

Und woUcn Bache liabcn. 

Lass brausen was nur brausen kann, 

In hellen lichten Flammen ! 
Ihr Deutschen alle, Mann fiir Mann, 

Fiir's Vaterland zusammen ! 
Und hebt die Herzen himmelan ! 

Und himmelan die Ilande ! 
Und rufct alle, Mann fiir Mann : 

Die Knechtschaft hat ein Ende ! 

Lass klingen was nur klingeirj^nn ! 
Die Trommeln und die Floten ! 

Wir woUen heute, Mann fur Mann, 
Mit Blut das Eisen rothen. — 

Llit Henker-blut, Franzosen-blut, 
siisser Tag der Rache ! 

Das klinget alien Deutschen gut- 
Das ist die grosse Sache ! 

Lass wehen was nur wehen kann ! 

Standarten weh'n und Fahnen ' 
Wir woUen heut' uns, Mann fiir Mann, 

Zum Heldentode mahnen : — 
Auf, fliege hohes Siegspanier, 

Voran dem kiihnen Reihen ! 
Wir siegen oder sterben hier, 

Den siissen Tod der Freien. 




Heart so light, 

Eye so bright, 
Arm SO stalwart in the fight, 

Seeking fame, 

All whose name 
From great Hermann came. 
Singing, shouting, brothers come, 
Let us gaily wander home, 

** Strong and free — 

Tnie are we^^ 
Shall our watchword be. 

Hear it soar 

The wildwood o'er. 
Through the oak-tree gray and hoar; 

Loud and long 

Swells the song 
From our youthful throng. 
Singing, shouting, brothers come, Lc 

Stars appear, 

Shining clear. 
Let us all be brothers here ! 


Ho]y band. 
Lead us hand in hand 
Singing, shouting, brothers come, &c. 




Max. y. SonEKKEHDOBr. 

Now leave your sleep, ye sleepers ; arise from off the earth ! 
Our steeds are neighing bravely, to greet the new day's birth ; 
Our weapons glance so brightly, in morning's ruddy bloom, 
We dream of wreaths of laurel, or think on coming doom. 

Again — God of Heaven — look down on us agsdn ! 
By Thee have we been summoned upon the batde-pldn. — 
Then let us stand before thee, and put us not to shame * 
The Christian flags are waving; — we battle in Thy name. 

A mom shall dawn upon us — a morning mild and clear— 
The angels look to see it, wilh every good man here. 
Full soon on each true German resplendently it lies ;^ 
O break, thou day of gladness ! thou dawn of freedom, rise ! 

Then clang from ev'ry steeple, and song in ev'ry breast ! 
And love and life-rejoicing, and after tempest rest! 
And when from ev'ry high-road the triumph-shouts unite. 
Then will we cry, brave comrades, " We, too, have fought 
the fight!'' 


/if RHEBT euch von der Erde ihr Schlafer aus der Ruh, 
^cb Schon wiehem uns die Pferde den guten Morgen zu ! 
Die lieben Waffen gliinzen so liell im Morgenroth, 
Man trauml von Siegeskranzen, man denkt auch an 
den Tod. 


Du reicher Grott in Gnaden, schau her vom Himmelszelt, 
Du selbst hast uns geladen in dieses Waffenfeld. — 
Lass uns vor dir bestehen, und gieb uns heute Sieg, 
Die Christenbanner wehen ; Dein ist, o Heir, der Krieg. 

Ein Morgen soil noch kommen, ein Morgen mild und klar ; 
Sein barren alle Frommen, ihn schaut der Engel Schaar. 
Bald scheinter sender Hiille, auf jeden teutschen Mann ; 
brich du Tag der Fiille, du Freiheitsmorgen, an ! 

Dann, Klang von alien Thiirmen, und Klang aus jedei 

Und Buhe nach den Stiirmen, und Lieb' und Lebenslust. 
Es schallt auf alien Wegen. dann frohes Siegsgeschrei — 
Und wir, ihr wackem Degen, wir waren auch dabeL 


A. Methtbsssl. 

Now out and away, friends, while loud our clarions ring. 
Now each manly voice be it lifted up to sing; 
For freedom's breath is blowing o'er hill and o'er dell, 
And a life of joyous freedom it pleaseth us well. 

We're holding together, like brothers true and tried, 
When death stalks around us, when arms are laid aside ; 
A clear, gladsome spirit doth lead us ev'ry one» 
For all of us to one goal are pressing on. 


Now long live oar captain ! he boldly goes before; 

We follow him bravely the path of vict'ry o^er ; 

To victory and battle he leads you away ; 

To your father's house he'll lead you, my brethren, one day. 

Now which of us would felter, at death or danger's name ? 
At nought our band doth tremble, but vilenest and sfanne ; 
Who m such holy contest his death-blow hath fbuDd, 
Bests, e'en in foreign earth, as m native grond. 


INAUS in die Feme, mit lautem HomerUang, 
Die Stimme erhebet, zum mannlidien Gesang; 
r Freiheit Hauch weht machtig durch die Wek^ 
Ein freies frohes Leben uns wohlgefallt. 

Wir halten zusammen, wie treue Briider thon^ 
Wenn Tod uns umtobet, und wenn die Wafibn roB^nf 
Tins alle treibt ein reiner froher Simiy 
Nach einem Ziele streben wir alle luau 

Der Hauptmann er lebe, er geht uns kiihn voran— 
Wir folgen ihm muthig auf blut'ger Siegesbahn ; 
Er fiihrt uns jetzt zu Eampf und Sieg hinaus, 
Er fiihrt uns einst, ihr Briider, in's Yaterhaiu^. 

Wer wdOtm wM attnn vor Tod und vor Gefahr? 
Yor Feigbnfe umI Sdbnde erbleichet uns're Schaar ! 
Und wer dca Gbd ■» knl'gen Eampfe &nd, 
Buht auch in fSnoMkr Eide, im Yaterland ! 



(,!)« Jinab &om girgc.) 

L. Hqlans. 

A SHEPBERD boy on the mountmn's 

I look on every castle down ; — 
The sun at morn I'm the first to see, 
And latest at night he tarries with 

For I'm the lad o' the mountain ! 

Cy the young stream's cradle I 

dwell alone, 
\nd drink it fresh as it bursts from 

the stone. 
It foams down the mountdn in 
mad c 

itmmy two amislcanspanit here ! 
1 the lad o' the mountain! 


The mountain summit is my domain, 
And round about go the storm and rain ; 
But, though from north and from south they roar, 
My song shall be heard all their tumult o'er. 
For Fm the lad o' the mountain ! 

Lightning and thunder may rage below, 
But the sky is blue o'er the hills where I go. 
I know the storm, and I shout in glee, 
*^ Leave thou the home of my fathers free." 
For Fm the lad o' the mountain ! 

And when uprises the war-bell's sound. 
While beacons flash on the hills around. 
Downward FU travel to join the throng. 
Swinging my sword and singing my song I 
For Fm the lad o' the mountain ! 


^CH bin vom Berg der HirtenknaV, 
(^ Seh' auf die Schlosser all' herab ; 
Die Sonne strahlt am ersten hier. 
Am langsten weilet sie bei mir. 
Ich bin der Knab' vom Berge. 

Hier ist des Stromes Mutterhaus, 
Ich trink ihn frisch vom Stein heraus; 
Er braust vom Fels in wildem Lauf, 
Ich fang ihn mit den Armen auf. 
Ich bin der Knab' vom Berge. 


Der Berg, der ist mein Eigentlium, 
Da ziehn die Stiirme rings herum ; 
Und heulen sie von Nord und Siid, 
So iibertont sie doch mien Lied. 
Ich bin der Knab* vom Bergo. 

Sind Blitz und Donner unter mir, 
So steh' ich hoch im Blauen hier ; 
Ich kenne sie und rufe zu ; 
" Lasst meines Vaters Haus in Ruh* !" 
Ich bin der Knab' vom Berge, 

Und wenn die Sturmglock' einst erschallt, 
Manch Feuer auf den Bergen wallt ; 
Dann steig ich nieder, tret in's Glied, 
Und schwing mein Schwert, und sing' mein laed. 
Ich bin der Knab' vom Berge, 




Rejoice ! our swords have nobly wrought, 

When swung by men of might ; 
Rejoice ! Thuiskon's race hath fought 

The vengeance-laden fight ! 
The courage that the Romans braved 

Hath struck another blow ; 
Behold, our fatherland is saved ! 

The tyrant's power lies low. 


With Germans joined, their foes to face, 

The northern hero band ; — 
And men of Rurik's ancient race. 

And men from Baltic strand, — 
And ardent through the combat brave, 

Our battle signal ran — 
*^ No German shall be despot's slave ! " 

Was cried by ev'ry man. 

Oh, then each noble heart beat high. 

The warrior's meed to gain ; 
Three days hath blood unceasingly 

Bedewed the battle plain. 
Then fear fell on the boastful band, 

All-conquering deemed before ; 
Their pride, upon our Rhenish strand. 

Was crushed, to rise no more. 

Triumph ! for freedom's battle-cry 

Shall give us courage new ; 
Our country shall stand fixedly, 

While German hearts are true; 
Then, countrymen, we'll hand in hand 

To honour's fight away ; 
And free shall be our German land 

Until the Judgment Day ! 


(§er kttfeiw StpO 


ORTH from Berlin a brave hero did ride, 
And troopers six hundred after him hied ; 
Six hmidred troopers of gallant mood, 
Who all were athirst for the Frenchman's 
blood. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

And there were marching, these riders beside, 
A thousand soldiers of courage tried ; 
soldiers, may Heaven bless each blow 
That's destined to lay a Frenchman low. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

Thus fortii wends the brave, the gallant Schill; 
To fight the Frenchman it is his will. 
Nor for king nor for emperor combats he, 
But for fatherland and for liberty. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard! 

At Dodendorf did those soldiers good 
Dye the fat earth with the Frenchmen's blood ; 
Two thousand men by their swords were sljun, 
To trust to their heels the rest were fain. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

Then stormed they Domitz, that fortress strong, 
And cast out the Frenchman's rascal throng ; 


To Pomerania they then passed o'er, 
Where no Frenchman shall cry his " qui vive " more.— 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard. 

To Stralsund the troops came thundering on ! 
Frenchmen, like birds could ye but be gons ! 
could ye feathers and pinions find, 
For Schill is coming, who rides like the wind.— 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard! 

Into the city he thunder'd amain. 
Where Wallenstein once kept his watch in vain — 
Where slept in the gate the Twelfth Charles so sound; 
But towers and wall are now razed to the ground. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

woe to ye Frenchmen ! How death doth mow ! 
The swords of the riders how ruddy they glow ! 
How boils in the troopers their German blood ! 
To slaughter the Frenchmen it seemeth them good. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

0, woe to thee, Schill, thou hero free. 
What treacherous toils are laid for thee ! 
On land they are flying, but from the main 
Comes creeping the traitorous serpent — the Dane.— 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 

Schill, brave Schill, thou hero stout, 
Why rodest not thou with the troopers out ? 
Thy courage why hide 'neath the rampart's shade ? 
In Stralsund now shall thy grave be made. — 
Schill, thy sword smiteth hard ! 


Stralsund, Stralsund, thou heavy town I 
The bravest spirit in thee went down ! 
A ball his gallant heart hath torn, 
And knaves of the hero made jest and scorn. — 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard ! 

For a saucy Frenchman he cried aloud, 
*^ Like a dog we'll bury this hero proud ! 
Like a thief whose body on gallows and wheel 
Hath made for the kite and the raven a meal ! "- 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard. 

They carried him out when all was dumb, 
Without sound of fife, without beat of drum. — 
No music of cannon or gun they gave, 
Wherewith to salute the soldier's grave. — 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard ! 

From oflF his shoulders they cut his head ; 
His corpse in a worthless grave they laid. — 
Till the judgment day he his rest must take : 
God grant he may then to joy awake. — 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard ! 

The pious and gallant heart sleeps on, 
With no stone to tell of the deeds he's done ; 
But, though no honour-stone hath he, 
His name shall never forgotten be. — 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard! 

When saddles the trooper his steed so light, — 
When swingeth the trooper his sword so bright,- 


He cries in anger, " Sir Schill, Sir Sdull, 
On the Frenchman revenge thy wrongs I will !" 
Schill, thy sabre smote hard. 

This is one of Moritz Amdt*s patriotic songs. Schill was a Pnunan 
lienteiumty who, during the period of his country's direst hnmiliationy raised 
a corps of Yolnnteers, and managed to annoy the enemy considerably by a speoiflB 
of Gneiilla warfiGure. He perished in the way described in the text. 


Nio. Beckxb. 

No, no, they shall not have him, 

Our free-bom Grerman Rhine, 
Though, like the famished raven. 

They, croaking, for it pine ! 
So long in verdant vesture 

He peacefully doth glide, — 
So long a plashing boat-oar 

Shall cleave his rippling tide ! 

No, no, they shall not have him, 
Our free-bom German Rhine, 

So long there still refresheth 
Our heart his fiery wine;— 

* To A. de Lamartine, firom the '^Bheinisches JahrbnolL'* (Sheuiali 
Annual) for 1841. 


So long the mountains firmly 

Shall stand from out his stream; 

So long a lofty steeple 

Shall from his mirror beam ! 

No, no, they shall not have him, 

Our free-bom German Rhiiic, 
While free men and fair maidens 

Shall seek the marriage shrine ; 
So long beneath his waters 

A single fish there dives ; 
So long among his singers 

A single lay there lives. 

No, no, they shall not have him, 
Our free-bom German Ehine, 

Till, buried 'neath his waters, 
The latest man hath lien ! 


{^h (SxtnutiizTt,) 

H. Hedte. 

Two grenadiers, captives from Russia's strand, 
Towards France were home returning ; 

But when they came to the German land 
Their hearts were filled with mourning. 


For then they heard of the luckless iall 

Of France, all lost and forsaken ; 
How scattered or sl^n the brave soldiers were all, 

And the emp'ror, the emperor taken. 

Then wept with his comrade each grenadier, 

This direful story learning : 
Then apake the first, " What woe is here ? 

Auu now my old wound is burning." 


Then spake the other, " The song is done — 
How gladly with thee I'd perish ; 

But my wife and child, save myself, have none 
To comfort them and cherish." 

" What caate I my wife or child to greet ? 

To better deed I'd waken ; 
Now let them beg, an they needs must eat. 

My cmp'ror, my emperor taken, 

" One prayer, good brother, grant to mo, 
When away by death I'm hurried;. 

Then take my body to France with thee, 
In Erench earth see m& buried. 

" The legion-doasr, wrtJt Ss crimson band. 

Fast cffk my bosom tie me ; 
€Sve me my musket in my hand. 

And lay my good sword by me. 

Thus, like a sentry, I'll still give heed, 
In the grave whereto ye take me ; 

Till the trampling hoof of the neighing steed 
And the cannon's roar shall wake me. 

Then, 'mid sabres clashing and flashing by, 
O'er my grave is my emperor wending. 

Then, ready and arm'd, from my grave start I, 
The emp'ror, the emp'ror defending. 



'ACH Frankreich zogen zwei Grenadier', 
Die waren in Russland gefangen ; 
Und als sie kamen ins deutsche Quartier 

Sie liessen die Eopfe hangeu. 


Da horten sie beide die traurige Malir : 

Dass Frankreich verloren gegangen, 
Besiegt und zerschlagen das tapfere Heer, — 

Und der Kaiser, der Kaiser gefangen. 

Da weinten zusammen die Grenadier', 

Wohl ob der klaglichen Kunde. 
Der Eine sprach : Wie weh wird inir, 

Wie brennt meine alte Wunde. 

Der Andere sprach : Das Lied ist aus, 

Auch ich mocht' mit dir sterben, 
Doch hab' ich Weib und Kind zu Haus, 

Die ohne mich verderben. 

Was scheert mich Weib, i;vw scheert mich Kind, 

Ich trage weit bess'res Verlangen ; 
Lass sie betteln gehn, wenn ae hungrig sind, — 

Mein Kaiser, mein ICaiser ge&Dgaa ! 

Gewahr mir, Bruder, eine Biff : 

Wenn ich jetzt sterben werde, 
So nimm meine Leiche nach Frankreich mit, 

Begrab' mich in Frankreich's Erde. 

Das Ehreokreiiz am rothen Band 

Sollst du auf s Herz mir legen, 
Die Flinte gieb mir in die Hand, 

Und gurt mir um den Degeo. 

So will icii liegen und horchen still, 

Wle eine Schildwach im Grabe, 
Bis einst ich hdre Kanonengebriill, 

TTnd wiehemder Rosse Getrabe. 

DaoQ reitet mein Kmser wohl iiber mein Grab, 
Viel Schwerter klirren und blitzen ; 

Dann steig ich gewafihet berror aus dem Grab', 
Den Kaiser, den K^ser zu schiitzen. 




(j^gslitb itx fnifDUItgen |a0tr.) 


Up, up, to the merry hunting, 

For now the time draws on ; 
The strife will quickly follow, 

The day begins to dawn. 
Up, pass them by, the idle. 

And leave them to their rest; 
But we will stir us gladly 

At our good king's behest. 

Our monarch he has spoken, 

" Where are my huntsmen true ?" 
And we have all arisen, 

A gallant work to do. 
We will build up a safety 

For all our fatherland ; 
With fervent trust in Heaven, 

With strong enduring hand ! 

Sleep calmly now, ye loved ones. 

Around our father's hearth, 
While 'gainst the foeman's weapons 

We boldly issue forth. 
happiness, our dear ones 

From danger to defend ; 
Let cannon flash — ^true courage 

Will triumph in the end ! 


Some will be home returning 

In victory, ere long, 
And then will be rejoicing, 

And joyfiil triumph song. 
With strength and gUd emotion 

How ev'ry heart will bum, — 
Who (alls, a heavenly kingdom 

For this on earth shall earn ! 

Afoot, or on our war-steeds, 

To the red 6eld will we. 
Our God will show us favour; 

He greets us gradously. 
Te huntsmen, all and each one, 

Charge hotly on the foe ; 
While fires of joy are burning, 

While yet life's sun doth glow ! 

Fredenc, Baron de U Matla FoaqnS (bom st Brandenbacg in I77T, died 
k( Berlin, Jaanaxr, 1S13), ia cMeflf knowa in thk coouli; u the author of 
" Uadins," ttnd bf tt few readsra aa the vriter of "Sintmn and his Gom- 
pamona." PonqnS'a literary career closed less brilliantly than could hayo been 
intictpated from the popnlarit; acbiered by '^ Undine^' and ethera of liiB earlier 
^Orka. He died In Btraiteneri GircninBtanceB, a pensionet on the bonnty of the 
Kingof FrnaaiA. 


*^ 3nrati;nnn'« famtW, 

San^B xrf % 1|e0pk 

SnCBOCK, in his admirable collection "Die Deutschen 
Volksbiidier," gives the name of " Volkslieder," Songs of 
the People, exclusively to those songs which are handed down 
by oral tradition from among the people themselves, having 
been written by unknown authors, and rescued from oblivion 
merely by the universal acceptation they found in the 
cottages of the peasants and at the fireside in the village 
inn. ^' Beliebte Lieder^^ popular songs written by authors 
of known literary fame and widely circulated among the 
people, are considered as belonging to a different class of 
literature, and form no portion of Simrock's collection. The 
necessity for condensation, and the impossibility of giving 
more than a few specimens of each department, has occa- 
sioned the union of the two classes under one head in the 
present work. 

Taken as a whole, the " People's Songs" of Germany are 
honourably distinguished by a certain purity of tone and 
general healthiness of feeling. Many of the older songs 
inculcate the highest maxims of morality. Not a few among 
the historical songs go to prove that even so early as the 
time of the Emperor Charles V.* there were among the 
people uneducated politicians whose shrewdness saw farther 
into the crooked policy of princes and generals than would 
have been possible with any but a sturdy, strongheaded 
race. Some of the religious songs of the people are not 
unworthy of notice. 

* For instance, the satirical song beginning 

''Es geht ein Bntzemann !m Land Henun," 
in wHicli the author shows a vivid appreciation of the Emperor and his under- 



. It, it, it and it. 
It is a heavy blow. 
That, that, that and that, 
From Frankfort I must go ; 
So I'll forget this Frankfort rare. 
And turn to wander. Heaven knows where ; 

I go to seek my fortune 


Thou, thou, thou and thou, 
Gk)od master, fare thee well ; 
Now freely to your face I'll say. 
Tour work don't please me anyway ; 

m go to seek my fortune 


You, you, you and you. 
Good mistress, feire you well ; 
Now to your face I'll tell you free. 
Your pork and cabbage won't suit me ; 

I'll go to seek my fortune 


You, you, you and you. 

Dame Cookee, fare you well ; 

If better you had knowTi your trade. 

Perchance with you I might have stayed ; 

I'll go to seek my fortune 



Te,/ye, ye and ye, 

Fair maidens, fare ye well ; 

My parting wish for you is still 

That one may come my place to fill ; 

ril go to seek my fortune 


You, you, you and you, 
Good comrades, all farewell ; 
If I have wronged you any way, 
I would for your forgiveness pray ; 

FU go to seek my fortune 



/ij^S, es, es und es, • 

^cb Es ist ein harter Schluss, 

Dass, dass, dass und dass 

Ich aus Frankfurt muss — 

So schlag ich Frankfurt aus dem Sinn 

Und wende mich, Gott weiss wohin ; 

Ich will m.ein Gliick probire', 


Er, er, er und er, 

Herr Meister, leb' er wohl, 

Ich sag's ihm nur frei in's Gesicht 

Sein' Arbeit die gef allt mir nicht ; 

Ich will mein Gliick probire', 



Sie, sie, sie und sie, 
, Frau Meist'rin, leb' sie wohl — 
Ich sag' ihr's nur frei in's Gesicht 
Hir Speck und Kloss' das g'fallt mir nicht; 

Ich will mein Gluck probire', 


Sie, sie, sie und sie, 
Frau Kochin, leb' sie wohl ; 
Hatt' sie's Essen besser angericht', 
Vielleicht ich war' gewandert nicht, 

Ich will mein Gliick probire', 


Xhr, ihr, ihr und ihr, 

Dir Jungfem, lebet wohl ; 

Ich wiinsch euch noch zu guter Letzt', 

Ein'n And6rn, der mein StelP ersetzt 

Ich will mein Gliick probire', 


Dir, ihr, ihr und ihr, 

Ihr Briider, lebet wohl ; 

Hab' ich euch was zu Leid gethan 

So bitt' ich um Verzeihung an ; 

Ich will mein Gliick probire% 




(gUr Srbaljtxl is' feiibstfe.) 

My truelove is pretty, though rich is not she. — 
I can't kiss the money ; what is it to me? 
Handsome Fm not ; rich I have grown, 
And a whole bagful of money I own. 
Had I but three farthings more, 
I should have twelve kreutzers, sure. 
Oh, my truelove is pretty, though rich is not she. 

My truelove is good ; kind and winning is she. 

If she gives me one kiss, Fm as brave as can be; 

Dearer and richer than jewels and gold. 

Therefore my truelove's heart I hold. — 

Were thou always with me, doubly dear shouldst thou be, 

Oh, my truelove so fair, how I dote upon thee I 



Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Ten hath struck upon our bell ; 
God hath given commandments ten 
That we might be happy men. 

Nought avails that men should ward us^ 

God will watch and God will guard us. 

May he, of his boundless might. 

Give unto us all good night. 


Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Eleven hath struck upon our boll ; 
Eleven apostles went there forth. 
Teaching men through all the eartli. 
Nought avails, &c. 

Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Twelve hath struck upon jur bell ; 
Twelve^ time's turning point must bo, 
Think, man, on eternity. 

Nought avails, &c. 

Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
One hath struck upon our bell ; 
One God all this world hath made ; 
Unto him all praise be paid. 
Nought avails, fcc. 

Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Two hath struck upon our bell ; 
Two ways before him man can see. 
Lord, in the right one lead thou mo. 
Nought avails, &c. 


Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Three hath struck upon our bell ; 
Three are sacred. Father, Son, 
Holy Spirit, three in one. 

Nought avails, &c. 


Listen, townsmen, hear me tell 
Four hath struck upon our bell ; 
Ibur sides hath the ploughed field. 
Will thy heart, man, harvest yield ? 
Nought avails, &c. 

Now all stars must fade away — 

Quickly now must come the day ; 

Thank your God, who through each hour 

Kept you with a father's power. 

Nought avails that man should ward us, 
Grod will watch and God will guard us — 
May he, through his boundless might, 
Give to each of us good night. 

From Flimrock's collection of Yolkslieder. Tlie form generally used by 
the Gferman watchmen at the present day is less elaborate in its nature ; the 
same verse being repeated after the lapse of each hour. The most popular 
U the following : — 

HoBT ihr Herren und lasst euch sagen, , 

Die Glocke hat geschlagen : 

Bewahret das Feuer und das Licht, 
Dass in uns're Stadt kein Schaden geschieht, 
Lobt Q^ott den IlermI 

LiSTEV, Gentlemen, hear me tell, 

hath struck upon the bell : 

Guard ye the fires and the candles all. 
That no harm to our town be^EtU. 

Pxaise God the Lord I 



A FARTHiNa and a. penny, 

They both of them were mine ; 

The fertbing went for water, 
The penny went for wine. 

The vintners and the maidens 
They cry " alas " and " oh ! " 

The vintners when I'm coming, 
The maidens when I go. 


My boots are torn, my slippers 

Are rent most ruefully, 
But out among the heather, 

The birds are singing free. 

And, if there were no highway, 

I'd stay at home, I think ; 
And had the cask no bung-hole, 

Why, then I couldn't drink. 


/jlKlN Heller und ein Batzen, 
^^ War'n allzwei Beide mein, 
Der Heller ward zu Wasser, 
Der Batzen ward zu Wein. 

Die Wirthsleut' und die Madel, 
Die rufen beid, " weh !" 

Die Wirthsleut' wenn ich komme, 
Die Madel wenn ich geh. 

Mein' Stiefel sind zerrissen 
Mein' Schuh, die sind entzwei, 

Und draussen auf der Haide 
Da singt der Vogel frei. 

Und gab's kein Landstrass, nirgend. 
Da sass' ich still zu Haus ; 

Und gab's kein Loch im Fasse, 
Da trank ich gar nicht drauss. 




(9on btn brti Sc^iuibent.) 

C. Hbrlossohn. 

Three tailors came o'er the Rhine once on a time. 
And put up with mine host at Ingelheim, 

On the Rhine, on the Rhine. 
They had in their pouches no penny to pay, 
And yet most tremendously thirsty were they, 

All for wine, all for wine. 

" Mine host, not a penny of money have we. 

Yet far through the world have we travell'd all three, 

By the Rhine, by the Rhine ; 
And each one among us has learnt a thing 
That we'll teach to you, and good luck 'twill bring. 

All for wine, all for wine." 

" My lads, I will not be be-fool'd this time, 
For I am the host of Ingelheim, 

On the Rhine, on the Rhine ; 
And so you can't carry your masterpiece through, 
I'll break ev'ry one of your sconces for you, 

'Stead of wine, 'stead of wine." 

The first lad caught up a ray of light, 
And threaded it through his needle bright. 

By the Rhine, by the Rhine ; 
And he mended a broken glass so well. 
That, which way the seam ran, none could tell, 

Through the wine, through the wine. 


The second tailor a gnat espied, 
That over his nose so merrily hied, 

To the Rhine, to the Rhine. 
This gnat a hole in its stocking had worn, 
Which, small as it was, the tailor did dam. 

All for ^-ine, all for wine. 

The third in his hand took a needle tall, 
And fixed it firmly and deep in the wall, 

By the Rhine, by the Rhine ; 
Then the lad through the eye of the needle did spring. 
Excepting that once, I ne'er saw such a thing, 

All for wine, all for wine. 

Quoth the innkeeper, " Surely such feats ne'er were played, 
So to you, my young masters, my thanks must be paid. 

On the Rhine, on the Rhine." 
He took up a thimble and filled to the brim, 
" Now, lads, ye may drink, till your heads all swim, 

Of my wine, of my wine." 

The tailor and His trade hare famished a fertile theme for the wit and 
satire of the Qerman people. Among the innumerahle songs ot which the 
tailor is made the hero, there are few to he tound in which the knight of the 
shears is not turned into ridicule and represented as the victim of a species of 
poetical injustice in the last verse. He is usually thrown out of the window, 
or makes his exit in some equally ignominious manner. The Qermans have a 
proverb respectiug him to the effect that, — 

Sechzehn sieb'zehn Schneider gehen auf ein Ffund, 
Und wenn sie das nicht wiegen, so sind sie nicbt gesund. 

(Sixteen or seventeen tailors go to make a pound. 

And if they do not weigh it, ihej are not hale and sound.) 

A notable exception to the general fate of the German song-taibr is found 
in the fortunes of the hero in the old song *'Es wollt' ein Schneider waodem, zu 
Montag in der frUh." Here a tailor, carried off by demons that he may supply 
them with clothes, plays such pranks among his captors as make them only 
too glad to dismiss him, and deteimine never to fetch another of the fraternity, 
— '* Er Btehl so viel er W0II9" — ^let him filch as much as he will. 


(Jit ^oslslationin )ite Ittbtne.) 

A. F. £. IiAlfOBKlH. 

Has Hkeii'cl our life to a 
journey, I know ; 

But none I've heard tell of 
has published abroad 

The f 
tmvel the road. 

At first we ride gently through childhood's domda ; 
We're happily blind, so that sorrow in vain 
Lies skulliing to watch our approach by the way ; 
We see but the flowers, and cry, " Oh, how gay !" 


With hearts beating high, on the next stage we start, 
And as maidens and youths play a weightier part, — 
Now Love mounts the coach as we hurry on fast, 
And gives us or sugar or wormwood to taste. 

With many a jolt through the third stage we stray. 
Where cares matrimonial darken the way ; 
And the worst is that children, a numerous brood, 
Come flocking around us, all screaming for food. 

The fourth stage is laden with sighs and with groans, 
Prom feeble old men and decrepit old crones ; 
On the box, as postillion, the scythe-bearer pale. 
Drives oiF with us wildly o'er hill and o'er dale. 

And travellers younger and stronger, they say, 
Have by that pale driver been hurried away ; 
But with all to the hostel of peace he has gone — 
If that is — then, honest postillion, drive on ! 




A LOCESMirn had a workman bold, 

Right slow at his file was he ; 
But when tl)^ dinner summons came. 

He huiried grievously. 
The first to dip in the porridge-pot, 

And the last to get his fill ; 
There was not another in all the house 

Could work with such hearty will. 

" Ho, workman mine," quoth his master once, 

" This riddle now read, I pray ; 
For, all the days wherein Fve lived 

I still have heard men say, — 
^As a man doth eat so tvorketh Ac.'— 

'Tis not so with thee, I vow ; 
For none have I seen, at work so slow. 

At feeding so fast, as thou." 

** Ho, master mine," the workman said, 

" The reason sure is plain, — 
The dinner that's quickly eaten up 

Takes fourteen hours to gain. 
K I should eat the whole day long. 

Nor once leave oflf the while, 
I warrant my jaws would as slowly work 

As yonder I ply my file." 



C5( N Schlosser hot an G'sellen g'hot, 
(3V Der hot gar langsam gTeilt ; 
Doch wenn's zum Esche gange ischt, 

Do hot er grausam g'eilt : 
Der Erschte in der Schiissel drin, 

Der Letzte wieder draus, 
Do ischt ka Mensch so ileissig g'west, 

Als er im ganze Haus. 

G'sell, hot amal der Meister g'sogt, 

Hor das begreif i not ; 
Es ist doch all mei' Lebtag g'west, 

So lang i' denk' die Red' ; 
So wie man frisst, so schafit man a ; 

Bei dir ischt's not a su ; 
So langsam hat noch I^ner gTeilt, 

Un g' fresse su, wie du. 

Ho, sagtder G'sell, das b'greif i scho; 

'Sch hot all's sei gute Grund : 
Das Fresse wahrt holt gor nit lang, 

Un d' Arbeit vierzeh' Stund! 


Wenn Aner sullt den ganzi Tag, 

In an StUck fresse fort : 
*Sch wiird' a gor bold su langsam gehn^ 

Als wie beim Feile dorU 


(^n J^ima itn ®bcniimtir.) 

HERE is a tree in the Odenwald 
Has store of branches green, 
And there full many a thousand times 
With E3V true love I've been. 

A beauteous bird sits on the tree : 
His song is blithe to hear, — 

I and my true love listen still 
As we are walking there. 

The bird upon the topmost branch 

He sits in quiet guise ; 
And merrily he pipes whene'er 

We lift to him our eyes. 

The bird is sitting in his nest 
Upon the green, green tree ; 

And have I been, in sooth, with her? 
A vision it must be. 

For, when I came to her again, 
The tree did wither'd seem. 

Another lover by her ade — 
Avaunt, thou hateful dream I 


The tree stands yet in the Odenwald. 

To Switzerland I wenJ. — 
Seemeth the snow so cold, so cold. 

As though my heart 'twould rend. 


/jjf^S steht ein Baum im Odenwald, 
VJ^ Der hat viel griine Aest' ; 
Da bin ich wohl viel tausendmal 
Mit meinem Schatz gewest. 

Da sitzt ein schoner Vogel drauf, 

Der pfeift gar wunderschcin, 
Ich und mein Schatzel lauem auf, 

Wenn wir selbander gehn. 

Der Vogel sitzt in seiner Ruh 

Wohl auf dem hochsten Zweig ; 
Und schauen wir dem Vogel zu, 

So pfeift er alsogleich. 

Der Vogel sitzt in seinem Nest 

Wohl auf dem griinen Baum ; 
Ach Schatz, bin ich bei dir gewest, 

Oder ist es nur ein Traum ? 

Und als ich wied' rum kam zu ihr, 

Verdorret war der Baum ; 
Ein and'rer Liebster stand bei ihr, 

Hinweg ! du boser Traum. 


Der Baum der steht iih Odenwald, 
Und ich bin in der Schweiz ; 

De liegt der Schnee so kalt, so kalt, 
Das Herz es mir zerreisst. 



Must I, then ? must I, then ? from the town must I, then? — 

And thou all alone must be ? 
When I come, when I come, when I come back again, 

Fll return, dear love, to thee. 
What though I can't always with thee remain. 

Yet thou still my joy shall be. — 
When I come, when I come, when I come home again, 

I'll return, my love, to thee ! 

When thou weep'st, when thou weep' st, for that Iraust away. 

That parting there now must be ; — 
Be there maids, many maids, in the lands where I stray, 

I'll still, love, be true to thee. 
Think not my affection would wither away 

Because I another might see ; 
Be there maids, many maids, in the lands where I stray, 

Fll still, love, be true to thee. 

In a year, in a year, ere the vintage is o'er, 

I'll return, dear girl, to thee ; 
Am I then, am I then still thy love as before, 

Then shall our wedding be. 


In a year my time will be over, and then 

I belong but to me and to thee.— 

When I come, when I come, when I come home again, 
Then shall our wedding be. 


[YUSS i' denn, muss i' denn zum Statele 'naus, 
ir Und Du, mein Schatz, bleibst hier ? 
Wenn i' komm, wenn i' komm, wenn i' wed'rum komm, 

Kehr ? ein, mein Schatz, bei dir. 
Kann i' auch nit all'weil bei dir seyn 

Hab' i' doch meine Freud' an dir, 
Wenn i' komm, wenn i' komm, wenn i' wied'rum komm, 
Kehr i' ein, mein Schatz, bei dir. 

Wie du weinst, wie du weinst, dass i' wandere muss, 

Wie wenn d'Lieb jetzt war vorbei — 
Sind au drauss, sind au drauss, der Madele viel, 

Lieber Schatz i' bleib dir treu. 
Denk du net, wenn i' en andere seh'. 

So sei mei' Lieb' vorbei — 
Sind au drauss, sind au drauss, der Madele viel, 

Lieber Schatz i' bleib dir treu. 

Uebers' Jahr, iibers Jahr, wenn me Traubele schneid't, 

Stell i' hier mi' wiederum ein ; 
Binn i' dann, bin i' dann dein Schatzele 

So soil die Hochzeit seyn. 
Uebers Jahr da ist mei' Zeit vorbei. 

Da g'hor i' mein und dein ; 
Bin i' dann, bin i! dann dei Schatzele noch, 

So soil die Hochzeit seiiu 



(iab* it^ nnb fait' kfe.) 

A. F. E. Langbein. 

There are two birds, well known in the land, 

Have-I and Had-I named ; 
The one will cheerfully rest on your hand^ 

The other still flies untamed. 

A Save-I affordeth pleasure rare ; 

More joy to his master bringing 
Than a thousand JSdd-Is that high in air 

Their restless flight are winging. 

Eggs of gold will the Have-I lay. 

And sings, " Content thee, content thee ! 

If thou labourest bravely the livelong day, 
At night sweet sleep shall be sent thee." 

But he who determines a Sad-I to seize, 
And to capture him madly striveth. 

He never shall have either peace or ease 
So long as on earth he liveth. 

lie runs and pants till his grave is nigh, 

The craggiest mountains scaling, 
While ever before him aloft through the sky 

The golden-wing'd bird keeps sailing. 

Then each and every sensible wight, 

Be with your Have-I contented ; 
Should a Had'I tempt ye, so blooming and bright. 

Let him soar away unprevented. 

(Srinktr'e §tbtiiktn.} 

Jdst from the mn my de- 
parture I took , 

" Street, thou hast surely 
elloua look ! 

Ei^ht side and Lft side are 
botli out of place ; 

Street, thou art tipsy! — 
A very clear case." 

" Moon, what a comical face dost thou make, 
One of thine eyes asleep, t'other awake ! 
Thou, too, art tipsy, I plainly can see ; 
Shame, my old comrade, oh, shame upon thee ! " 

Look at the lampposts, too, here is a sight, 
Not one among them can now stand upright ; 
Flick'ring and flack'ring to right and to left, 
Sure they all seem of their senses bereft. 


All things around me are whirling about, 
One sober man alone, dare I come out ? 
That seems too venturesome, almost a sin- 
Think I had better go back to the inn ! 



Habe ! was not that a rifle ? 

Now, say, who fired the shot ? 
It was the youthful huntsman 

F the garden-house, I wot. 

The sparrows in the garden 

Were cause of grief and woe : 

Two sparrows and a tailor 
Were by the shot laid low. 

The tailor he was frighten'd ; 

The sparrows they were hurt : 
The sparrows fell in the bean-field, 

The tailor in the dirt. 


As once I went out for a walk, you see, 
A curious circumstance happened to me : 
A huntsman I saw throu^ the thorny brake 
Bide to and fro by the woodland lake. 
The stags by the roadside came bounding on : 
What did the huntsman ? He shot not one ; 
But he wound bis hunting horn lustily. 
Kow I ask you, good people, what may this be ? 

And as I pursued my way, you see, 

Another strange circumstance happened to me : 

A fisher-miud in a boat on the lake 

Rowed to and fro near the thorny brake. 

The lishes leapt to the setting sun : 

What did the maiden ? She caught not one ; 

But she sang a roundelay merrily. 

Now I ask you, good people, what may this be ? 


For an hour I'd been walking on, you see, 

When the strangest circumstance happened to me : 

Towards me a riderless horse advanced ; 

An empty boat on the clear lake danced ; 

And I saw, 'neath the willows that grew close by, 

Two persons whispering secretly ; 

And 'twas late, and the moon shone radiantly. 

Now I ask you, good people, what this may be ? 


(Sf'ist ttdx alUs tins.) 

It is all one, it is all one, 
If I money have or none. 
It is all one, it is all one, 
If I money have or none. 

He who money has, can take a wife ; 
He who none has, leads a happier life. 
It is all one, &c. 

He who money has, can speculate ; 
He who's none, his losses can't be great. 
It is all one, &c. 

He who money has, may be a boor; 
He who's none, may be so all the more. 
It is all one, &c. 


He* who money has, viith his sweetheart goes ; 
If he none has, some one else does. 
It is all one, &c. 

He who money has, can a-sleighing go ; 
He who none has, shuffles through the snow. 
It is all one, &c. 

He who money has, can on oysters sup ; 
He vlio none has, may eat the shells up. 
It is all one, jcc 

He who money has, to the play may roam ; 
He who none has, may play the fool at home. 
It is all one, &c. 

He who money has, must die at last ; 
He who none has, dies just as &st. 

It is all one, it is all one, 

If I monev have or none. 


Peacefully slumber, my own darling son ; 
Close thy dear eyeilda and sweetly sleep on ; 
All things lie buried in silence profound. 
Sleep — I mil scare e'en the gnats Soating round. 

'Tis now, my dearest, thy life's early May — 
Ah ! but to-morrow is not as to-day. 
Trouble and care round thy curtains shall soar ; 
Then, child, thou'lt slumber so sweetly no more. 


Angels of heaven, as Ipvely as thou, 
Float o'er thy cradle and smile on thee now. 
Later, when angels around thee shall stray, 
'Twill be to wipe but thy teardrops away. 

Peacefully slumbel*, my own darling son, 
I'll watch by thy bedside till dark night is gone ; 
Careless how early, fcw late it may be, 
Mother's love wearies not, watching o'er thee. 



Life still enjoy, friends. 

While yet the lamplet glows ; 

Ere it hath faded 
Pluck ye the rose. 

Men for themselves make grief and care, 
Seek thorns in life, and find them there ; 
And never heed the violet flower 
That blooms, their path beside. 
Life then enjoy, &;c, 



When all creation 's veil'd in cloud, 
When roars the thunder o'er us loud, 
At evening, when the storm is past. 
The sun shines twice as fair. 
Life then enjoy, &c.* 

Who from revenge and hate hath fled 
To sow contentment's seed instead. 
Will find it grow a gallant tree 
To bear him golden fruit. 
Life then enjoy, &c. 

Who loveth truth and probity. 
Who to the poor gives bounteously, 
Shall find content a willing guest 
Blithely with him to dwell. 
Life then enjoy, &c. 

Though dark his dreary path may grow. 
Though fate may work him plague and woe. 
Friendship shall stretch a sister's hand 
To greet the worthy man. 
Life then enjoy, &c. 

She wipes away his tears that fall. 
She streweth flow'rets on his pall. 
She tumeth midnight into dawn, 
And dawning into day. 
Life then enjoy, &c, 

* *' Frent encli des Lebens " has an unbounded popularity among the 
lower classes in Germany, though it is not yery apparent by what merit this 
distuiction has been gained. 


She is our being's fairest band ; 
She ^ves us, brothers, hand for haitd; 
So wend we glad and joyously 
To better fatherland. 

Life then enjoy, Mends, 

While yet the lamplet glows; 
Ere it hath faded 
Fluck ye the rose. 


HE trees are all budding, tbe May- 
:^ time has come, 

= Then tarry who listeth with 
sorrow at home ; 
As the cloudlets wander 
through skies far away, 
So standeth my dedre 
through the wide world 
to stray. 

My father, my mother, may God guard ye well, 
For where my fortunes bloom in the world, who can tell ? 
There stretches many a highroad where never I did stride, 
There grows full many a wine that I never yet have tried. 


Arise, then, Biise, in llie bng;tit sunny ray, > 

And over the mountains, and through the vale away; 
The brooklets Are babblers, the trees a rustling crowd ; 
My heart is like a skylark that dngeth out aloud ! 

At eVn, in the village, I seek the vintner's sign — 
*' Mine host, ho ! mine host, — a can of sparkling wine ; 
Ho, take up thy fiddle, thou merry fiddler thou, 
A song of my dear maiden V\l sing to thee now." 

What though I find no shelter, tben lie I at night 

All under the blue heaven, where watch the stars so bright ; 

The wind in the linden rocks me to rest amain, 

And with a kiss the red mom will wake me again. 

wand'ring, wand'ring, of free-bom life the zest. 

Thou send'st the breeze of heaven so freshly to the breast ; — 

That g^ly to heaven my heart is singing now, — 

How beautiful, thou wide world, how beautiful art thou I 



ER Mai ist gekommen, die Baume fechlagen aus, 
Da bleibe, wer Lust hat, mit Sorgen zu Haus ; 
Wie die Wolken wandern, am himmlisehen Zelt, 
So steht auch mir der Sinn in die weite weite Welt 

Herr Vater, Frau Mutter, dass Gott euch behiit', 
Wer weiss wo in der Feme mein Gluck mir noch bliiht, 
Es giebt so manche Strasse, wo nimmer ich marschirt, 
Es giebt so manchen Wein den ich nimmer noch probirt. 

Frisch auf denn, frisch auf, im hellen Sonnenstrahl, 

Wohl iiber die Berge, wohl durch das tiefe Thai ; 

Die Quellen erklingen, die Baume rauschen alP, 

Mein Herz ist wie 'ne Lerche, und stimmet ein mit Schall. 

Am Abend, im Wirthshaus, da kehr* ich durstig ein, 
" Herr Wirth, he, Herr Wirth, 'ne kanne blanken Wein ! 
Ergreife die Fidel, du lust' ger Spielmann du, 
Vor meinem Schatz das Liedel das sing ich dazu." 

Und find ich keine Herberg', so lieg ich zu Nacht, 
Wohl unter freiem Himmel, die Sterne halten Wacht ; 
Im Winde die Linde, die rauscht mich ein gemach, 
Es kiisset in der Friih' das Morgenroth mich wach. 

Wandern, Wandern, du freie Burschenlust, 
Da wehet Gottes Odem so frisch in die Brust: 
Da singet und jauchzet das Herz zum Himmelszelt, 
" Wie bist du doch so schon, du weite, weite Welt." 



OMiit dlitk »«tt Siltni.) 

From the Lower Rhine. 

These fell a frost in the clear spring oight ; 
It fell upon the blue flowers bright, 

So that they wither'd and perish'd. 

There was a youth, and he loved a mmd, 
And silently from home they fled : 
Nor father nor mother Itnew it. 

And they have wander'd near and far; 
But they had neither luck nor star, 
So that they died and perish'd. 

Around their grave the blue flowers wreathe, 
Entwined, in embrace, like the lovers beneath : 
No frost can wither or kill them. 



^S]^8 fiel ein Beif in der Friihli^gsnivht, 
v' Wohl auf die schonen Blaubliimelein, 
Sie sind verwelket, verdorret. 

Ein £iuibe hatte ein Magdlein lieb, 
Sie liefen heimlich von Qause fort, 

Es wusst 's nicht Tdter noch Mutter. 

Sie li^n well in's fremde Land, 
Sie tiatten weder Crluck noch Stem, 

Sie sind verdorben, gestorben, 

Auf ihrem Grab Elaubliimlein Wiihn, 
Umschlingen sich treu, wie ue im Grab, 
I>er Beif ue nicht welket, noch d&reu 

« ^ 



'§abt Snitgs, § allays, rniti "^axamm. 

In the arrangement of this department the selection of Fink 
has, to a certain extent, been followed ; though some of the 
ballads are not devoted to the description of the affections, 
and should therefore, strictly speaking, have been separately 
classed. The materials in this branch of song-writing are so 
extensive that a complete selection was out of the question. 
Some of the earliest German love songs are to be found in 
the '^ Gralliarden/' and similar publications of the sixteenth 



HE peaceful sleep that falleth all 

Can never stay my heart's sad, 

weary moan ; 
There's one can make aie glad, 

and one alone. 

Nor meat nor drink can ever 

nourish me. 
No sport can make my heart beat 
joyously ; 
That can but she who in my heart doth lie. 

Where men are merry, I would not go there 
By night and day I'm lonely in my care : 
That maketh she whom in my heart I bear. 

To her alone I look with steadfast fiuth, 
Hoping she'll soon look down on me beneath, 
Lest that I fall in power of bitter death. 

ThiB eld soQg appeared in a eoIlectioD eatitled " Bid AiiBbuiid echfiner 
weltlioher and ziichtiger Deatacher Ideder." It U iUbo to be foand in Eclach'B 
[n < ' Cea Enabtii Wnnderhoni," Bisutaiio'a Cuuoiia work. 



From the <<Galliardten'* of Bosth, dated 1593. 

Dame Nightingale, prepare to roam, 
The day doth break, the tune hath come ! 
For thou true messenger shalt be 
All to my dearest love for me— 

Who in her little herb-garden 
Doth thee await in care and pain ; 
Many hot sighs do her escape, 
Till thou to her good news shalt take. 

Then get thee up, delay not long ; 
Go thou with gay and merry song, 
And her from me full kindly greet ; 
Say, I myself will soon her meet. 

A thousand times she shall not fail 
To welcome thee feir, — ^Dame Nightingale,- 
At the same hour she '11 show thee, too, 
Wounded with love, her heart so true. 

By Venus' arrow is she pierced,— 
Do thou her cure ; ami^ll her first, 
That she shall cease her sigh and wail — 
Do well thy task, Dame Nightingale. 



^AU Nachtigall, mach' dich bereit, 
Der Tag bricht an, es ist hoch Zeit, 
Du sollst mein treuer Bote seyn — 
Wohl zu der Allerliebsten mein. 

Die dein in ihrem Wiirzgartlein, 
Thut warten mit gross Noth und Pein ; 
Manch heisser Seufzer ihr 'raus dringt-^ 
Bis ihr von mir gut Botschaft bringst. 

So mach dich auf, saum' doch nicht lang, 
Fahr hin mit schon und frohlichem Gresang, 
Sprich ihr meinen Gruss in's Herz hinein^ 
Sag, ich woll' selbst bald bei ihr sein. 

Sie wird dich Meissen zu tausendmal, 
Willkommen sein, Frau Nachtigall, 
Wird dir auch zeigen zur selben Stund, 
Ihr treues Herz, mit LieV verwund't. 

Durch Venus Pfeil ist es verletzt ; 
Drum du sie alles Leids ergetz', 
Sag\ dass sie ihren TJnmuth lass falP ; 
Richt's nur recht aus, Frau Nachtigall 


(9tm itn alien '^ubtslitbtzn,) 

Ambsosiub Metzqsb. 

Bbforb my true-love's threshold 
I needs would up and ride- 
She saw me from afar off, 
And joyfully she cried : 

" My heart's delight I see, 
Now trots he here to me ; 
Trot, good steed, trot — 
Trot speedily." 

Then let I loose the bridle. 

And flew my love to meet j 
And greeted her so gaily, 
And said in accents sweet : 
" My pretty love, so fair, 
What dost at threshold there 1 
Trot, good steed, trot — 
Trot now to her." 

Off sprang I from my steed then, — 

To the door I bound it fast, — 
And kindly I embraced her, — 
Nor slow the moments passed. 
To the garden then went we, 
All fi]}^ with ImrHmts' glee ; 
Trot, good steed, trot, — 
Trot silently. 

132 TEB BOOK <: 

And pleasantly tt^ether 

In the green grass sat we then ; 
Of olden times the love songs 
We sang once and again. 
Till we to weep were fain, 
For the hate of scornful men ; 
Trot, good steed, trot — 
Trot home amain. 

A moderniBed Teiman of iliiB Bong hsa lately become papnlai in Eugland. 
Tlie t«i(, of Thioh the aboTs is a traoilatioo, ia ta be fbond in Erladi's 
" Dealeche Ueder." It datea ae eaily ae the jeax 1312. 



HERE goes, in a pleasant valley, 
A mill-wheel round and round. 
My faithless lore hath vanished, 
Whom dwelling there I found. 

She promised she'd be fdthful, 
Siie gave me a ring thereto; 

Her plighted troth she's hroken, — 
My ring hath sprung in two. 

I would I were a minstrel, 

To travel the wide world o'er, 

And sing in my vagrant fashion, 
Wand'ring from door to door. 


Or, I would be a trooper, 

And rush to the bloody fight ; 
And lie by the silent watchfire, 

Afield in the darksome night. 

Hear I the mill-wheel turning, 

I know not what I will ; — 
Soonest of all Fd perish, — 

Then were it for ever stilL 


N einem kiihlen Grunde, 
Da geht ein Miihlenrad, 
Mein' Liebste ist verschwunden, 
Die dort gewohnet hat. 

Sie hat mir Treu versprochen. 
Gab mir einen Ring dabei ; 

Sle hat die Treu gebrochen, 
Mein Ringlein sprang entzwei. 

Ich mocht' als Spielmann reisen, 
Weit in die Welt hinaus ; 

Und singen meine Weisen, 

Und gehn von Haus ^H^Qaus. 

Ich mocht' als Boiter fliegfen 

Wohl in die blut' ge Schlacht, 

Um stille Feuer liegen, 

Im Feld bei dunkler Nacht. 


> • V 


Hor' ich das Miihlrad gehen : 
Ich weiss nicht was ich will — 

Ich mocht' am liebsten sterben 
Da war's aiif einmal still. 


Bmdiice'b " Ueder nnd Bilder." 
I LOVED thee well, and thou knew*st it not : 
I would have spoken, yet dared I not. 
For better days I'd stay. 

The better days — I found them not ; 
Another came, and he tamed not; 

And I passed from thy heart away. 

"Well may he love thee, — ^I know it not ; 

More faithful than I, — I believe it not. — 

That thou may'st be happy, I pray. 





Seek thee a tme-lovp in summer time, 

r the garden or in the wild ; 

For then the days are long enough, 

And then the nights are mild. 

Ere winter comes, let the pleasant bond 

Be fastened firm and light, — 
That thou may'&t not late in a snowdrift wait 
■ In the cold, clear moonlight in^-A- 

(itrr «Iuf.) 

*IR Olof rides late, and far on his way. 

To sumnion the guests for iiis wedding- 

The elfs they dance on the grassy strand, 
And the erl-king's daughter gives him 
her hand. 

"Now hail! SirOIof, — now why would'st 

Come join our revel, and dance wilh 



^* And dost thou disdain me, Sir Olof, this day, 
Then sickness and sorrow shall track thy way ! " 

With that on his heart she smote him amain, 
And never before had he felt such pain. 

She raised him all pale on his charger there,— 
*' Ride home now, and greet me thy bride so fair." 

And when he came to the castle gate. 
There did his mother, all trembling, wait. 

** listen, my son, and answer me true. 
Whence hath thy visage that ghastly hue ? " 

** In the erl-king's realm have I been by night. 
My mother ; and shall not my face be white ? " 

^' Now tell me, my son, so dear, so fair, 
What greeting I to thy bride may bear." 

** Go tell her I to the wood am bound. 

To breathe my steed, and to prove my hound." 

And scantly the light of mom was come, 
Ere came the bride and the bride-guests home. 

They poured the mead, and they poured the wine, — 
*' Now, where is Sir Olof, the bridegroom mine ? " 

" Forth to the wood is Sir Olof bound. 

To breathe his steed, and to prove his hound." 

The bride raised the curtain of scarlet red,^ 
There lay Sir Olof, — and he was dead. 



|EB.B Oluf reitet spat und weit, 
Zu bieten auf seine Hochzeideut' ; 

Da tanzen die Elfen auf griinein Land', 
Erlkonig's Tochter reicht ihm die Hand. 

" Willkommen, Herr Olufy was eilst von hier ? 
Tritt hier in den Reihen und tanz' mit mir." 

" Ich darf nicht tanzen, nicht tanzen ich mag, 
Fruhmorgen ist mein Hochzeittag." 

" Hor' an, Herr Oluf, tritt tanzen mit mir, 
Zwei giUd' ne Spome schenk ich dir. 

" Ein Hemd von Seide, so weiss und fein, 
Meine Mutter bleicht's mit Mondenschein." 

** Ich darf nicht tanzen, nicht tanzen ich ma;j, 
Eriihmorgen ist mein Hochzeittag." 

" Hor* an, Herr Oluf, tritt tanzen mit mir, 

Einen Haufen Goldes schenk' ich dir." 


" Einen Haufen Goldes nahm' ich wohl ; 
Doch tanzen ich nicht darf noch soil." 

" Und willst, Herr Oluf, nicht tanzen mit mir ; 
Soil Seuch' und Krankheit folgen dir." 

Sie that einen Schlag ihm auf sein Herz, 
Doch nimmer fiihlt' er solchen Schmerz. 


Sie hob ihn bleichend auf sein Pferd, 

" Reit heim nun zu dein'm Fraulein werth." 

Und als er kam vor Hauses Thiir, 
Seine Mutter zittemd stand dafiir. 

" Hor' an mein Sohn, sag' an roir gleich, 
Wie ist dein' Farbe so blass und bleich ? " 

" Und sollt' sie nicht sein blass und bleich, 
Ich traf in Erlenkonig's Reich." 

"Hor' an mein Sohn, so lieb und traut, 
Was soil ich nun sagen deiner Braut ? '* 

" Sagt ihr' ich sei im Wald zur Stund^, 
Zu proben allda mein Pferd und Huixf 

Friihmorgen, und als es Tag kaum war, 
Da kam die Braut mit der Hochzeitschaar, 

Sie schenkten Meth, sie schenkten Wein, 
" Wo ist Hierr Oluf, der Brautigam mein?'* 

" Herr Oluf, er ritt in Wald zur Stund 
Er probt allda sein Pferd und Hund." 

Die Braut hob auf den Scharlach roth, 
Da lag Herr Olut, und er war todt. 

This is a ballad of Danish origin. Herder includfld it in his ooUdoUun of 
*' Popular Songs,'' published at Leipzig, in 1779. 



AND'RING — it is the 

miller's J07 
To vtmder; 
The miller must be 
good for naught 
Who in his life had 
□ever thought 
To wander. 

It was the water taught us this, — 

The water, 
That haUi no re^ by night or day. 
That would be wand'ring far away, — 

The water. 

This learn we from the null-wheels too,- 

The mill-wheels, 
That loth to tairy still are found, 
And never tire of turning round, — 

The milKwheels. 


The pebbles, heavy though they be, — 

The pebbles, — 
Must mingle in the merry race, 
And would be first to quit the place,— 

The pebbles. 

Oh, wand'ring, wand'ring, my desire 

To wander ! 
Good master mine, good mistress, pray 
Let me in quiet go my way, 

And wander. 


GdTixs — From the Operetta of J* Jerj und Bfttel/**' 

The water it rushes, 

And never will stay ; 
The stars through the sky 

Wend so gaily their way ; 
The clouds through the heavens 

So merrily gUde — 
Thus love rushes onward. 

And ne'er may abide. 


The waters rush onward, 
The cloudlets pass by ; 

But the stars go not from us, — 
Tney stay, though they fly , 



Of love that is loyal 

The like we may say ; , 

It heaves and it rushes, 
Yet fades not awav. 


(©"jcrgifirt smb" mthxz l^irbrr.) 

H. Heise. 

Thou say'st my songs are poisoned ; — 
How otherwise could it be ? 

Ilast thou not mingled the prrison 
In my blooming life for me ? 

Thou say'st my songs are poisoned ; — 
How otherwise might it be ? 

I carry snakes in my bosom ; 
I carry, beloved one, thee ! 


l^ERGIFTET sind meine Lieder •.- 
^ Wie konnt' es anders sevn ? 
Du hast mir ja Gift gegossen 
In's bliihende Leben hinein. 

Vergiftet sind meine Lieder ; — 
Wie kdnnt' es anders seyn ? 

Ich trage im Herzen viel Schlangen, 
Und dich, Geliebte mein. 



To the joyous feast has 
the ranger gone ; 

Through the darksome 
wood strides the poacher 

The ranger's mfe and 
child are asleep ; 

Through their chamber- 
window the moonbeama 

And while they play on the wall so white, 
The child grasps the mother in wild adrigbt ! 

'* mother, where tarries my father dear ? — 
I am so cold and so sick with fear." 

" My child, look not where the moonbeams creep ; 
But close thine eyes, child, and go to sleep." 

The moon's light travels along the wall. 
And now on the polished gun doth &11. 

" Mother, that sound ! — and hear'st thou not ?— • 
'Twas not father's gun that fired the shot." 


" My child, look not where the moonbeams creep ; 
That was a dream, love, — ^go thou to sleep." 

The moonlight doth still through the chamber stream 
On the father's picture with pallid beam. 

" Lord Jesus guard us this fearful night ! — 

Look, mother, my father is deadly white!" 

Then sprang. from her slumber the mother in dread ! 

And lo ! they were bringing her husband— dead ! 


(gas J^isc^trmak^jeit.) 

H. Heine. 

Thou beauteous fishermaiden. 
Come, guide thy boat to land ; 

Come, sit thee down beside me, — 
We'll commune, hand in hand. 

Come, lay thy head on my shoulder, 
And fear me not, my child, 

That trustest thyself so fearless 
Each day to the ocean wild. 

My heart is like the ocean. 

With storm, and ebb, and tide ; 

And many pearls of bfeauty 
Within its caverns bide. 




{Jit SttaUfa^tt nncfe ^ttilar.) 

The mother stands at the lattice. 

The son on the sick-bed lies ; — 
"To see the great procession, 

Canst Ihou not, William, rise?" 

"I'm all too sick, my mother, 

To see or to hear," he said ; 
"And oh, my Ijeart it is heavy, 

"VTith thinking of Gretchen, dead." 

',' Arise, we will to Keevlar 

Take book and rosary ; 
The holy Virgin she healeth 

Thy wounded heart for thee." 

The silken banners are waving, 

There nseth the choral tone; 
And thus it comes, the procesaon, 

Through tlie town on the RhipS, Cologne. 

Wends with the others the matron ; 

Tier son she leadeth now ; 
Both in the chorus joining, — 

" Hail Mary ! praised be thou !" 

HE BOOK OF <3E&31AN e 


Keevlar the Virgia Mary 

Is deck'd in garments gay, — 

For much there is to accomplish, 
Much sick folk cometh to- 

And with them they bring, the dck 

As offerings fair and meet, 
Limbs iJiat of wax are fashioned, 
Jlaoy waxen hands and feet. 

To him who a wax hand offers, 

Will heal on his hand the wound : 


The cripple who brings a wax foot, 
His foot will grow firm and sound. 

There are many who dance on the rope now, 

To Keevlar on crutches went in ; 
There are many could stir ne'er a finger, 

Who now play the violin. 

The mother took a wax-light. 

And fashioned therefrom a heart, — 

" Come, offer thou that to the Virgin, 
And so shall sheijti|l thy smart." 

The S05 t(k>k tile wax-light, sighing. 

Went sighing to bring his dole, 
The tear-drop welled from his eyelid, 

The word welled forth from his soul. 

" Thou pure and spotless maiden, 

Thou blest of God on high, 
Thou Queen of highest heaven. 

Hear thou my anguish-cry. 

^' My dwelling, and my mother's, 

Was in Cologne, the town — 
The town which many hundred 

Churches and chapels doth own. 

"And next to us lived Gretchen, — 

But dead, alack, is she : — 
I bring thee a wax heart, Mary ; . 

Heal thou this heart for me. 


*^ Heal thou my heart that's wounded 

And early and late I vow 
To pray and to sing devoutly ; 

Hail, Mary ! praised be thou!*' 


The sick son and his mother 

Asleep in the chamber were, — 
"When lo! the holy Virgin 
' All silently entered there. >^ 

She bent her over the sick oneij '* 

And on his heart did lay 
So softly her healing finger, — 

And smiled, and went her way. 

The mother saw in a vision 
All this — and saw yet more ; 

Then started she from her slumbers^ 
The dogs they barked so sore. 

And there lay stretched before her 
Her son, and he was dead ; 

There played on his ashen features 
The light of the morning red. 

Then folded her hands the mother ; 

She felt — she knew not how; 
Devoutiy sang she in whispers, — 

" Hail, Mary ! praised be thou !' 



I STOOD on the mountdn 
summit J 
At the hour when the 
sun did set ; 
I mark'd how it hung o'ot 
the woodland 
The evening's golden 

And, with the dew de- 
A peace on the earth there feUjr- 
And nature lay hushed in qiuet,-' * " 
At the voice of the evening bell. 



I said, " heart, consider 

What silence all things keep, — 

And, with each child of the meadow 
Prepare thyself to sleep. 

** For every flower is closing 
Li silence its little eye, — 

And every wave in the brooklet 
More sofdy murmureth by. 

**The weary caterpillar 

Hath nestled beneath the weeds; 
All wet with dew now slumbers 

The dragon-fly in the r^eds. 

,*Mhe golden beetle hath laid him 
In a rose-leaf cradle to rock ; 

Now wend to their nightly shelter 
The shepherd and his flock. 

** The lark from on high is seeking 
In the moistened grass her nest ; 

The hart and the hind have laid them 
In their woodland haunt to rest. 

** And whoso owneth a cottage 

To slumber hath laid him down ; 

And he that roams among strangers 
In dreams shall behold his own." 


And now doth a yearning seize me^ 

At this hour of peace and love^ 
That I cannot reach the dwelling, 

The home that is mine, above. 


OH stand auf Berges Halde 
Als die Sonn' hinunter gieng^ 
Und sah wie iiberm Walde 
Des Abends Goldnetz hing* 

Des Hinfimels Wolken thauten^ 

Der Erde Frieden zu, 
Bei Abenflglockeijlauten 

Ging die Natur zur Ruh. 

Ich sprach : *' Herz empfinde 

Der Schopfung Stille nun, 
Und Schick, mit jedem Kinde 

Der Flur dich auch, zu ruhn* 

** Die Blumen alle schliessen 

Die Augen allgemach, 
Und alle Wellen fliessen 

Besanftiget un Bach. 

" Nun hat der mude Silfe 

Sich unter's Blatt gesetz^, 
Und die Libell' am Schilfe 

Entschlummert, thaubenetzt. 


" Es ward dem goldnen Kafer 
Zur Wieg* eia Rosenblatt ; 

Die Heerde mit dem Schafer 
Sucht ihre Lagerstatt. 

" Die Lerclie sucht aus LuAen 
Ihr feuchtea Nest im Klee, 

IJnd in des Waldes Schliiften 
Ihr Iiager Hiiich und Reh, 

" Wer sein ein Hiittchen nennet, 
Buht nun darin sich aus ; 

Und wen die Fremde trennet, 

Den ti%t ein Traum nach Haus." 

Mich fasset ein Yerlangen 

Dasa ich zu dieser Frist, 
Hinauf kann nicht gelangen 

Wo meine Heimath ist. 



B. Buns. 
YOUKG man lores a mtuden, 

Who chooseth another to wed ; 
The other loves yet another, 
But marries this miuden instead. 

Then needs must the jilted maidea 
Go marry out of spite 

The first, her path who crosses; — 
I ween he's a luckless wight. 

It is but the old, old story, 

That ever remmneth new ; 

And hb heart ia like to be broken, 

Whom just it happens to. 

/jl^IN JUngling liebt ein A^dchen, 
^tU Die hat einen Andem erwah.t ; 
Der Andere liebt eine And're, 

Und hat sich rait dieser vermahlt. 

Das Al^chen h^rathet aus Aerger 

Den ersten best«n Mann, 
Der ihr in den Weg gelaufen, — • 

Der Jiingling ist ubel dran. 

Ea ist eine alte Geschicbte, 

Doch bleibt we immer neu ; 
Und wem aie just passiret, 

Dera bricht das Herz entzwn. 




Fr. Euokbrt. 

The ancient Barbarossa 
By magic spell is bound,— 

Old Frederic the kaiser, 
In castle underground. 

The kaiser hath not perish'd, 
He sleeps an iron sleep ; 

For, in the castle hidden. 
He's sunk in slumber deep. 

With him the chiefest treasures 
Of empire hath he ta'en. 

Wherewith, in fitting season, 
He shall appear again. 

The kaiser he is sitting 
Upon an ivory throne ; 

Of marble is the table 
His head he resteth on. 

His beard it is not flaxen, — 
Like living fire it shines. 

And groweth through the table 
Whereon his chin reclines. 

As in a dream he noddeth. 
Then wakes he, heavy-eyed, 

And calls, with lifted finger, 
A stripling to his side. 

LovB eosas, dai.l 

"Dwarf, get thee to the gateway, 

And tidings bring, if still 
■Jheir course the ancient ravens 

Are wheeling round tiie bill. 

"For if the ancient ravens 

Are flying still around, 
A hundred years to slumber 
By magic spell I'm bound." 

The Emperor '^reilerick Barban 
r-uIdiis, in Silicia. AtK'npting to 
by tlie cuneat and pGri^had. The vagne hspea which alwaja linger in the 
ImaoDLi of tfae people nhen the newi of tbe death of one of Iheir heroes arriTes 
i-i any bat the most explicit and sathentic farm, gave rise amonff the peasanta 
of Germany to the belief that the emperor iras not really dead, hnt wonld at 
some future season reappear to claim tbe empire which has since bis diaap- 
Dearanca undergone snch grievous changes and misfortnneJ. The KjlfhSnBer 
!3«r^ in TburingiA, the Unteraberg near Stlzbarg, and other places, are pointed 
mi by Tarioos Tillage a:ige« ai the seene of Uieir emperor's protracted bybema- 
turn. The popnlarity of Barbarosss among the lower orders of Germany was 
Tery great, and tha iilea of his reappearance was as confidently and ardently 
Iniked for in many a Svabian home as was the return of the uufortunate Hon- 
month by tbe brave peasants of tbe west, who hiid risked and lost nil by th^ 
prticipatjon in his luckless exploit. 



H. Hmnu 

A STAR is falling, is falling, 

Adown from its sparkling height; 

The star of love it is, yonder, 
That falleth in my sight. 

The whiten'd buds are falling 

In showers from the apple-tree ; 

They're coming, the sportive breezes 
To scatter them in their glee. 

The swan on the lake is singing. 

And sailing to and fro ; 
And ever, more softly singing, 

He sinks to the flood below. 

How still it is, how darksome, — 

The wind sweeps the leaves along,— 

In splinters tlie star hath shivered, 
And mute is the swan's low song. 


S fallt ein Stem herunter. 

Aus seiner funkelnden Hoh'- 
Das ist der Stem der Liebe, 
Den ich dort fallen seh\ 

Es fallen vom Apfelbaume, 
Der weissen Blatter viel ; 


Es kommen die neckenden Liifte, 
Und treiben damit ihr Spiel. 

Es singt der Schwan im Weiher 

Und rudert auf und ab ; 
Und immer leiser slngend' 

Taucht er in's Fluthengrab, 

Es ist so Still und dunkel, 

Verweht ist Blatt und Bliith • 
Per Stem ist knistemd zerstoben, 

Yerklungen das Schwanenlied« 


B. M. Abhdt. 

And the sun his fiery course rode he 

Bound the world ; 
And the stars they said : ^^ We will wend mih thee 

Bound the world." 
" Bemain ye at home," 'gan the sun to chide, 
" Or I scorch out your golden eyes in my ride— 
My fiery ride round the world." 

Then went the stars to the gentle moon. 

In the night ; 
And they spake : " thou, on thy cloudy throne. 

In the night. 
Let us wend with thee, for thy milder ray 
Will not bum the light of our eyes away/* 
So she took them, companions of night. 


Dear moon and stars, we will greet ye well, 

In the night 
What silently stirs in the heart ye can tell, 

In the night ; 
Come, light up your heaven-lamps on high 
That I may roam forth right joyously 
To the merry diversions of night. 


RBiiriCK's " Lieder tmd Bildor." 

In the elder bush a bird there sat, 

In the beauteous, silent night of May; 
Beneath, a maid on the grassy plat, 

In the beauteous, silent night of May. 
When the maiden sang, would the bird's note ceasQ; 
When the bird sang, held the maid her peace. 
And louder it grew. 
The song of those two. 
The silent moonlit valley through. 

And pray what sang the young bird there. 
Through the beauteous, silent night of May ? 

And what, I pray, sang the maiden fair. 
In the beauteous, silent night of May ? — 

In the vernal aun did the bird rejoice, 

Of the joys of love sang the mmden's voice. 

How the words of her song 

To my heart did throng, 

I ne'er shall forget, my whole life long. 


(Jit atnti Sargi,) 

J. Eerneb. 

/jrtWAY in the old cathe- 
''"""" dral 

Two coffins stand 

alone ; 

In one of them sleeps 

King Ottmar, 

And the singer rests 

The king sat onpe in 
High throned in his 
father's land; 
The crown still graces his temples, 
The falchion his kingly hand. 

But near the proud king the singer 

Is peacefully sleeping on, 
In his lifeless hand still clasping 

The harp of the pious tone. 


The castles around are falling, 

The war-cry rings through the land, 

The sword, it stirreth never 

There in the dead king's hand. 

Blossoms and vernal breezes 
Are floating the vale along, 

And the singer's harp is sounding 
In never-ending song. 

WEI Sarge einsam stehen 
In des alten Domes Hut, 
Konig Ottmar liegt in dem einen, 
In dem andem der Sanger ruht 

Der Konig sass einst machtig 
Hoch auf der Vater Thron, 

Dim liegt das Schwert in der Bechteu, 
Und auf dem Haupte die Kron\ 

Doch neben dem stolzen Konig, 
Da liegt der Sanger traut, 

Man noch in seinen Handen 
Die fromme Harfe schaut. 

Die Burgen rings zerfallen 

Schlachtruf tont durch das Land, 

Das Schwert, das regt sich nimmer. 
Da, in des Konigs Hand. 

Bliithen und milde Liifibe 

Wehen das Thai entlang, — 

Des Sangers Harfe tdnet 
In ewigem Gesang. 


(git liErBnnkfiu jRroiu.) 
L. Uhlaid. 
Aloft, on yonder hill-side 

A little cot doth stand ; 
You look from off its threshold 

Far out upon the land. 
There sits a free-bom peasant 

Upon the bank at even, 
And wets his scythe, and singeth 

His grateful song to Heaven. 



Below, on the lake, are falling, 

The silent shadows down ; 
Beneath the wave lies hidden, 

All rich and rare, a crown. 
In the darksome night it sparkles 

With rubies and sapphires gay; 
But no man recks where it lieth 

From the times so old and gray. 


A droben auf dem Hiigel 
Da steht ein kleines Haus, 
Han sieht von seiner Sdiwelle 

In's weite Land hinaus. — 
Da sitzt ein freier Bauer 

Am Abend auf der Bank, 
Er dengelt seine Sense 

Und singt dem Himmel Dank. 

Da drunten in dem Grunde, 

Da dammert langst der Teich, 
Es liegt in ihm versunken 

Eine Krone, stolz und reich ; 
Sie lasst zu Nacht wohl spielen 

Karfunkel und Saphir, 
Sie liegt seit grauen Jahren 

Und Niemand sucht nach ihr. 


H. Hsm. 

CANNOT tell what it meaneth 

That I am so sad to-day ; 
A legend of times departed 

Will not from my brain avar. 
The ^r is cool, and it darkens, 

And quietly flows the Rhine, 
While over the mountain summits 

The evening sunbeams shine. 

A maiden of peerless beauty 

Is wondrously sitdDg there ; 
They sparkle, her golden jewels; 

She combeth her golden hair. 
With a comb of gold she combs it. 

And a song, too, ^ngeth she, — 
That song hath a wondrous ringing 

Of powerful melody. 

The boatman in yonder shallop 

Is seized with a wild delight ; 
He looketh not on the breakers, 

His gaze b towards the height. 
I ween the waves will have swallowed 

Both boatman and bark ere long, — 
And 'tis Lore-Ley who hath dona this 

By might of her magic song. 



H. HiiNi. 

How canst thou sleep in quiet, 
^Mid the living whUe I remain f 

Betumeth the ancient anger, 
Then shall I break my chain ! 

Hast heard the ancient ditty 

That tells how a dead man hied, 

And brought his love at midnight 
To sleep in the grave by 's side ? 

Thou sweetest among the maidens, 

Thou fairest, credit me, 
I live, and I am stronger 

Than ever the dead can be. 

'^'^lE kannst du ruhig schlafen, 

Und weisst ich lebe noch ? 
Der alte Zom kommt wieder, 

Und dann zerbrech ich mein Joclu 

Kennst du das alte Liedchen : 
Wie einst in todter Knab' 

Um Mitternacht die Geliebte 
Zu sich geholt in's Grab ? 

Glaub mir, du wunderschones 

Du wunderholdes Kind, 
Ich lebe, und bin noch starker 

Als alle Todten sind ! 



L. Uhland. 

** On, say what are those beauteous sounds. 

Dear mother, prythee, see, 
That at this silent midnight hour 

From slumber waken me ? " 

" I nothing hear — I nothing see. — 

rest in slumber mild ; 
They're bringing thee no serenade, 

My poor, my sufF'ring child." 

** Those are not music-sounds of earth 

That make my heart so light ; 
The angels call me with their song, 

mother dear, — ^good night ! " 


L. Uhland. 

Over the Rhine came gallants three. 
And drew the rein at an hostelry. 

" Now hast thou good wine, — ^mine hostess, say ; 
And where is thy lovely daughter gay ? " 

" My wine it is bright, and fair to see ; 
My daughter, alas ! in her shroud lies she.*' 


And thejp entered the chamber with muffled tread| 
! Where a coffin black was the maiden's bed. 

The first he lifted the veil from her face, 
And look'fl on the maiden with sorrowful gaze. 

" wert thou living, thou beauteous one. 
How would I love thee from this day on !" 

The second spread o'er her the veil where she lay, 
And his tears fell fast as he turned him away. 

" Ah, me ! that thou liest thus dead on thy bier ; 
Have I not loved thee this many a year ? " 

But the third came forward, and lifted the veil, 4 
And the maiden he kiss'd on her lips so pale. 

" In the past, as to-day, I have loved but thee. 
And FU love thee still, through eternity." 



S zogen drei Bursche wohl iiber den KJiein, 
Bei einer Frau Wirthinn da kehrten sie ein. 

"Frau Wirthinn, hat sie gut Bier und Wein? 
Wo hat sie ihr schones Tochterlein?" 

" Mein Bier und Wein ist hell und klar ; 
Mein Tochterlein liegt auf der Todtenbahr." 

Und als die traten zur Eammer hinein, 
Da lag sie in einem schwarzen Schrein. 


Der Erste, der schob den Schleier xuruc* 
Und scbaute sie an mit traiirigem Blick. 

" Ach, lebtest da noch, du schdne Mfdd, 
Ich wiirde dich liebeo von dieser Zeit," 

Der Zweita deckle den ScUeier zu, 
Und kehrte sich ab, und weinte dazu. 

"Ach dass du liegst auf der Todtenbahr ! 
Ich hab' dich geliebet so mancbes Jabr!" 

Der dritte hob ihn wieder sogleich, 
. Und kiisste sie an den Mund so bleich. 

"Dich liebt* idi hnmer, dich lieb ich noch heut', 
Und werde"(Edi lieben in Ewigkeit." 


(" SSlie ui bot^ tnt €xbt 

HsBDut'E "VolkBlieder. 

How is the earth bo { 

so fur! 

The little Utia kno 


They lift their wingi 

And, singing their st 
BO brightly, 
Their joy to the hea' 

How is the earth so fair, so Mr ! 

The rivers and lakes know it well, — 


And paint on their clear bright bosom • , 
Hill, city, and garden in blossom, 

With the clouds that over them saiL 

And poets and painters know it too ; 

And beside these many a one,— 
^ho painteth it not, he sings it ; 
An' he singeth it not, yet rings it 

Through his heart with a joyful tone. 


^J^IE ist doch die Erde so schon, so schon ! 
Das wissen die Vogelein; 
Sie heben Ihr leicht Gefieder, 
Und singen so frohliche Lieder 
In den blauen Himmel herein. 

Wie ist doch die Erde so schon, so schon ! 

Das wissen die Fliiss' und Seen : 
£ie malen im klaren Spiegel 
Die Grarten und Stadt' und Hiigel, 

Und die Wolken die driiber gehn, 

Und Sanger und Maler wissen es, 

Und es wissen' s viel andere Leut' ! 
Und wer's nicht malt, der singt es, 
Und wer's nicht singt, dem klingt es. 
In dem Herzen vorlauter Freud' I 



(SSarmmg box itm $^nn.) 

By the Rhine, by the Rhine, dwell not by the Rhine, 
My son, I counsel thee fair ; ^ 

Too beauteous will be that life of thine, 
Too lofty thy courage there. 

Seest the maidens so frank, and toe men all so free, 

A noble assembly so bright, * 

With thy soul all aglow, there's the dwelling for thee ; 
There seem all things fitting and right. 

From the stream how they greet thee, the towers in their 

And the ancient cathedral town. 
When thou climbest aloft to the dizzying height, 

To gaze on the waters down. 

In the river upriseth the nymph from the vale, 

And if once she hath on thee smiled. 
And if Lorelei sings, with her lips so pale. 

My son thou'rt for ever beguiled. 

The glamour of sight and of sound will combine. 
Till with shudd'ring delight thou shalt bum ; — . 

Thou'lt sing of thy home " By the Rhine, by the Rhino ! 
To thine own thou wilt never return I 


CSrib iaaaeim's bit J^bmm.) 

F they knew it, the little flow'rets. 

How deeply wounded my heart. 
I ween thejr would all weep with me 
To heal its aching smart 

And if the nightingales knew it, 
How Bick I am, — how sad, 

They fdn would carol for me 

Their song so soothing and glad. 

And knew they, the golden starlets, 
And knew they of my woe. 

They'd leave their high habitations 
To comfort me here below. 

But none of all these can know it, — 

One only knoweth my smart ; 
Tis she who herself hath riven 
And torn asunder my heart. 



FvE looked into the dark blue sea, 
Fve trusted to the deep blue sea ; 
A sky lay mirror'd bright therein, 
And twinkling stars and moonlight sheen , 

But sadly did it 'fall ;— 
For when to the deep sea I flew, 
I found therein no sky of blue, 
But wild waves to appal. — 
'Twas treachery, falsehood, all ! 

Fve looked unto the bright blue sky, 
Fve trusted to the bright blue sky ; 
It glanced so pure, it gleamed so fair, 
A golden sun was rising there ; 

But sadly did it 'fall ;— 
The sun that burned so hot and proud. 
Around me many a thunder-cloud 
And lightning-flash did call. — 
'Twas treachery, falsehood, all ! 

Fve looked into two bright blue eyes, 
Fve trusted those two bright blue eyes ; 
They seemed so clear, and pure, and young, 
I gazed thereon in raptures long ; 

But sadly did it 'fall ;— 
Their lightsome glance was angry glare, 
A tossing flood their mirror fair. 
That did my soul enthral. — 
'Twas treachery,' falsehood, all ! 



{iSxdtt im hmhhx 'Sxt&tn,) 


Returning to my native place, 
With joy at length the spot I trace, 

Where the dark lindens greet me. — 
'Twas there at parting we embraced, 
'Twas there she on me looked her last, 

And there my love will meet me. 

And yet my heart seems sore in pain. — 
What perfect stillness here doth reign ! 

The trees scarce stirring o'er me ; 
And from his nest so cheerfully 
A little bird kept calling me. 

As though she waited for me. 

That was the sound my maid loved best. — 
The nightingale's upon her nest, 

The dark trees waving round her ; 
That ever was her fav'rite tree, 
'Twas there our happy dreams dreamed we, 

And there I always found her. 

But now, when I approached to gaze, 
Black crosses strewed our trysting place, 

The dark trees o'er them sighing ; 
One grave I saw, still fresh and young, — 
'Twas there the nightingale had sung, — 

And there my love was lying. 


( jIn §:iI«ImigEii $ort.) 

T was an ancient monarch 

Ruled where the Rhine doth flow, 
And nought he loved so little 

As sorrow, feud, and woe : 
His warriora they were Striving 

For a treasure in the land ; 
In sooth they near had perished 

Each by bis brother's hand. 

Then spake he to the nobles : 

" What boots this gold," he said 
" If with the finder's life-blood 

The price thereof is pad ? 
The gold, to end the quarrel, 

Cast to tSe Rhine away ; 

There lie the treasure hidden, 

Till dawns the latest day ! " 

The proud ones took the treasure, 

And cast it to the main ; 
I ween it all hath melted, 

So long it there hath lain : 
But, wedded to the waters 

That long have o'er it rolled. 
It clothes the swelling vineyards 

With yellow gleam, like gold. 


Oh, that each man were minded, 

As thought this monarch good, 
That never care might alter 

His high, courageous mood ! 
Then deeply would we bury 

Our sorrows in the Rhine, 
And, glad of heart and grateful, 

Would quaff his fiery wine. 


(^bdJC^b bam viitn ^n\p:t.) 


Farewell thou dear old year, with all 

Thy joys and griefs, at last ; — 
Like those before thee, thou must fall 
(Which once, like thee, I mine could call) 
Into the hoary past. 

Some hours of hope, and some of fear 
Thou'st brought, old year, to me ; 
My thanks, with brimming wine-cup here, 
With glee, and mirth, and carol clear, 
FU pay thee, heartily. 

Thou'lt sacred be to me, when long 

Are past thy moments fleet ; 
What though, my joyous wine among, 
Some bitter drops at times were flung. 
It still was passing sweet. 


Though not a brighter drop may rise, 

My goblet to adorn ; 
Though not a costlier glittering prize 
Within my purse concealed there lies 

Than when thou first wert bom,— 

Thy pleasant dreamy whispering. 
Dear memory, shall I know ; 
Each harvest still new wine shall bring, 
In praise whereof we'll gladly sing ; 
And money — ^let it go. 

Whatever of counsel and of lore 
Thou'st written in my heart, 
Early and late I'll ponder o'er — 
That when approacheth autumn hoar. 
Good fruit it may impart. 

Now once again farewell to thee, — 

The midnight chime is near, 
That to thy grave shall summon thee.— 
Hark ! hark ! fill glasses speedily ; 
Hurrah ! all hail. New Year ! 




The sickle moon of autumn 

Peers white through clouds around ; 

The parsonage by the churchyard 
Lies hushed in rest profound. 

The mother reads in the Bible, 

The son at the candle stares, 
Sits yawning the elder daughter. 

While the younger thus declares : — 

" Alas ! for the days we live here ! 

How creep they so wearily ; 
Save when one to the grave is carried, 

What have we here to see ? " 

The mother says, 'mid her reading, 

" Thou'rt wrong ; but four have died 

Since that thy father was carried 
To rest by the church-door side." 

Then yawneth the elder daughter : — 

" I'll not starve here with ye ; 
I will to the count to-morrow, — 

He's rich, and he loveth me." 

The son breaks forth in laughter : 
" There drink at the ' Star ' below 

Three who make gold, and who'll teach me 
Their secret gladly, I know." 


The mother flings the Bible 
Right in his lace bo wan : 

" And would'st thou, God-accurst, 
Become a highwayman ? " 

Thej hear a knock at the window. 
They see a beckonbg hand ; 

Without, in his black priest-garment, 
Doth their dead father stand. 

^tiriiMtls' aitt> Cunbibial Songs. 

ly— yJw/ rtg— ~^' ^^ specimens given under this depart- 
Uv*^!^**' ™^'*' '^'^ been selected from various 
" Studenten-Lieder-Biicher," and from 
Fink's collection. They will pve the 
reader an idea of the convivial efiFlisions 
affected by the German student. The 
lengthy song uged at the inauguration 
of new companions (Weihelied),and the 
&mous old Burschen-lied "Der Biirsch 
vonechtem SchrotundKoni," have pur- 
posely been omitted. Deprived of the mime which 
should accompany them, and tricked out in an 
English dress, both these songs have an inex- 
pressibly dreary effect. Besides, who would attempt a 
satisfactory rendering of a song cont^ning such a verse as 
the following ? — 

" Ala BurBche klirrand duioh die Stadt 
Id Bdner Uajeatfit, 
filiM urn den Bpom die PankenBut 
Und Feaei kreuiwM weht I " 




T.'E life is the life of a flower, — 

Our sages have settled it so. 
'Tia meet on this fact we should 

think, Iriends; 
To moisten the flower we should 
drink, friends; 
'Twill bloom all the sweeter, 
I trow. 

Tlien life is compared to ajoumey, — 

Our sages have settled it so. 
Your glasses fill high ! I opine, friends, 
If we lay but the dust with good wine, friends, 

Our journey the smoother shall go. 

Our life to a dream may be likened, — 

Our sages have settled it so. 
They've here my concurrence again, friends 

Tour glasses, your glasses all drain, friends; 
We'll dream all the merrier I trow. 

students' and convivial songs. 181 

(§tt ^ami xm j^eller.) 

In the cool cellar, here, you see 

Fm on a wine-cask seated, 
In joyous guise, while unto me 

The best of wine is meted; 
The cooper fills the goblet up 

When he beholds me winking, 
I hold aloft the brimming cup 

I'm drinking, drinking, drinking. 

The spectre Thirst possesses me ; 

In order, then, to lay him, 
I shake my wine-glass lustily — 

With Rhine wine I will slay him. 
Now through a veil of rosy hue 

At all the world I'm blinking, 
No wrong would I to any do, — 

I'm drinking, drinking, drinking. 

But, oh ! my thirst will grow apace 

With ev'ry cup I swallow ; 
In each true Rhine wine-drinker's case 

This fact is sure to follow ; 
But I've some comfort still, though fast 

From cask to floor I'm sinking, 
I've done no wrong, from first to last. 

While drinking, drinking, drinking. 




In wine, so saith the proverb old, 

Fair truth is wont to stay ; 
Then, while our cups ring loud and long. 
Arise — of truth the triumph-song 
Be boldly sung to-day. 

Long live who knows humanity. 

Its duties, and its worth ; 
Who loves his brother man as much 
An* if he walk with beggar's crutch, 

Or clad in purple, forth. 

Long live who ne'er hath bowed the knee 

To golden idol's pride, — 
Who owns for sordid pelf no care, 
And not before a monarch's chair 
Hath ever fawned or lied. 

But he whom inward voices ne'er 

To manly deed did call, 
Who leisure for dull sloth hath found. 
While innocence stood wailing round. 

Full deeply may he fall. 

Long live who hears the sick man's cry, 
The poor man's woes can feel • 

students' and oontiyial songs. 183 

Who, by no thought of money led, 
Nightly repairs to sickness' bed, 
To comfort and to heal. 

Perish who would the simple crowd 

With sophistry ensnare ; 
Perish each judge with deepest shame 
Who, at a mighty culprit's name, 

Hath trembled in his chair. 

Long live who waves for fatherland 

The blood-stained banner high ; 
Who'll charge for freedom and the laws 
(His shield the goodness of his cause), 

Upon the enemy. 

Long live who'll wage the sterner war 

With error's direful night ; 
Who, though they " Crucify him" cry. 
Though king and priest stand threat' ning by, 

Will battle for the right. 

And long live ev'ry honest man — 

Each man of dauntless mood, 
Each monarch and each serving-man, 
Each citizen, each countryman, 

Each man that doeth good. 




W'M Weine wie das Spirchwort sagt, 
(^ Hiillt sich gem Wahrheit ein — 
Drum auf ! Bei voller Glaser Klang ! 
Der Wahrheit frohes Hochgesang 
Soil heut' gesungen seyn. 

Es lebe wer der Menschheit Pflicht, 
Der Menschheit Wiirde kennt ! 

Und wer den Mann am Kriickenstock 

Wie jenen dort im Purpurrock 
Gleich willig Bruder nennt ! 

Es lebe, wer noch nie sein Knie 

Vor gold'nen Gotzen bog ; 
Wer, ungereizt von schnodem Lohn, 
Selbst vor des grossten Konigs Thron 

Nie schmeichelte, noch log ! 

Doch wen der Zeug' in eigner Bnist 

Noch nie zu Thaten rief ; 
Wer, wenn der Unschuld ach erschoU, 
Noch schlummem kann, von Tragheit voll 

Der faUe, falle tief ! 

Es lebe, wer des Siechen Schmerz 

Des Kranken Jammer heilt ; 
Nicht kauf bar durch das Gold allein, 
Noch oft bei diist'rer Sterne Schein 
Zum Armuthslager eilt ! 


Doch sterbe, wer das blode Volk 

Mit Himgespinnst timwebt ! 
Ea sinke tief im tiefsten Pfuhl 
Der Bichter, der im Bichterstuhl 

Von grossea Siindem bebt. 

£3 lebe, wer &r*s Vaterland 

Die blut" ge Faline schwingt ; 
Und wenn es Sieg und Freiheit gilt, 
Dreist auf der Unschuld Demantschild, 

In Feindes Scliaaren dringt ! 

Es lebe, wer noch schwerem Kri^ 

Mit Wahn und Irrthum tiihrt ; 
Wer wenn man " Kreuz'ge, Kreuz'ge " schreit, 
Wenn ihn Satrap und Bonze diaut, 

Nie Kopf und Muth verliert. 

Ea lebe jeder Bedliche, 

Und jeder Mann voll Kraft ! 
Sei'a Konig, oder TJnterthan, 
Sei's Burger oder Bauersmann, 

Wenn er nur Gutes scbaSt. 



We're met here together, a jovial rout. 

Good brother mine, " ergo bibamus.^^ 
Our converse is finished, our glasses ring out ; 

Remember, boys, " ergo bibamus,^^ 
A true-hearted motto from times that are past. 
That crowns the first goblet, nor flags with the last, 
And back from the banquet an echo is cast, 

A glorious " ergo bibamusJ^ 

Now, fate from your circle, friends, calls me away, 

My merry boys, " ergo bibarmLSj^ — 
With knapsack full Ught, firom my friends I must stray ; 

Then doubly, friends, " ergo bibamus.^^ 
The miser may sigh o'er each groat he must spend, 
But yet there's enough for the true-hearted friend, 
To each jovial soul still another will lend. 

My brothers dear, " ergo bibamus,^^ 

Good friends, of the present time what shall we say ? 

My vote is still " ergo bibamtis.^^ 
For this is, you know, a remarkable day ; 

Again and again, then, — " bibamus ! '* 
Through joy's open portal how pleasant the ways ; 
The clouds are all radiant, dispelled is the haze, 
And visions of happiness gladden our gaze. — 

We sing, goblets raising, " bibamus /'* 




Old Bacchus is a gallant man ; 

I tell you so once more, friends. 
He's greater than that harping-man, 

With all his books of score, friends. 

The gilded harp Apollo owns 

Forms all his wealth extensive ; 
Therefore, you know, he boasts and drones, 

And makes himself expensive. 

Yet on his instrument, I doubt, 

Who'd lend a single heller, 
For better music ringeth out 

From Father Evan's cellar. 

Apollo, wheresoe'er he can. 

His boastful theme rehearses ; 
But yet friend Bacchus is a man 

Who understands his verses. 

Apollo's tenor may have moved 

Parnassus ; — ^who can know, sirs ? 
But Bacchus' bass is more approved 
' Mong mortals here below, sirs. 

To fill for us Apollo's chair. 

Arise, friends, let us crave him ; 
For our grandees, I'm well aware, 

Are mighty glad to have him. 



Apollo walks 'mid princes grand 

In deep humiliation ; 
They take old Bacchus by the hand. 

Like one of equal station. 

We'll drag, then, ere aught else be done^ 

Upon Parnassus glowing, 
Of Heidelberg the mighty tun 

With Nierensteiner flowing. 

Instead of laurel, all the ground 

With grape-vines will we plant, aye. 

And 'mid full barrels dance around, 
Like any mad Bacchante. 

We've been, from custom, I opine, 

Too sober and too wary, 
And this is why the Muses nine 

Have been of late so chary. 

Oh, had their draughts been only lent 
From Bacchus' nectar-tuns, sirs. 

Their holding-back they'd soon have sent 
To convents and to nuns, sirs. 

No need were, then, of coaxing word 
To charm them all to face us ; 

Uncall'd, and of their own accord, 
They'd forward, and embrace us. 

students' and convivial songs. 189 


The course of my life is love and jest, 

And endless minstrelsie, 
A cheerful song from a careless breast ; 

And my life shall joyful be. 
To-day we go bent, to-morrow straight, 

Through dales and o'er mountains high, — 
But grumbling never will change our fate ; 

Hurrah, then ! what care I ? 

The times are bad, and the youthful blood 

Already dull care doth cloy; 
But yet I maintain the times are good 

Where hearts still wake to joy. 
Come in, come in, thou honoured guest ; — 

Sit, Joy, at our table down, — 
And season the feast thou provided hast. 

And blithely oiur goblets crown. 

Dark thoughts of the future avoid ye all, 

Vain care as to who bears sway ; 
For fortune standeth upon a ball, 

And rules in a wondrous way. 
The crown of our empire shall Bacchus take. 

And monarch alone be he ; 
The fair maid Joy our queen we'll mak< 

By the Rhine shall their dwelling be. 


In the mighty tun at Heidelbei^ 

Our senate aball sit in state ; 
And in the castle Johannisberg 

Shall our wor^pful council w^t. 
Oiu: worthy ministers shall be sent 

O'er Burgundy to reign ; 
The coundl of war and the parliament 

Deliberate on Champagne, 

When thus our parts distribute we, 

And carry our purpose through, 
The sickly time shall succour'd be, 

And the ancient norld made new. 
The grape juice cooleth this heat of mine. 

Then fair the new kingdom 'fall ! 
Courage of wine is courage fine, 

And wine doth level all ! 


(fiitfUtrit alki <EiltIknlni.) 

Kov I my heart qa naught have set ; 

That's why go well thro' the world I get ; 

And be that will my comrade be 
Let turn clink his glass, and then may he 
Drink out the wine with me. 

Chorus. — ^Hurrah ] hurrah ! hurrah ! 


I set my heart on goods and wealth ; 

I lost my spirits, I lost my health ; 

Oh ah! 
The coins I found would roll away ; 
And when in one hand I made them stay. 
From the other gone were they. 

Chorus. — ^Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah I 

I set my heart on woman next; 

But soon I found myself sore perplexed ; 

Oh ah! 
The maiden false— away ran she ; 
The true one tired me awfully I 
The best — was not for me. 

Chorus. — Oh ah ! oh ah ! oh ah I 

On travel next I set my heart ; 

And from my home must needs depart ; 

Oh ah! 
But everywhere I've foully sped ; 
The fare was bad, and strange the bed, 
And none knew what I said. 

Chorus. — Oh ah ! oh ah ! oh ah I 

I set my heart on praise and fame ; 

Hurrah ! 
But others achieved a greater name ; 

Oh ah! 


And when at length I did advance, 
My comrades looked at me askance 
And none with a kindly glance. 

Chorus. — Oh ah ! oh ah ! oh ah ! 

I set my heart on fighting then ; 

And many a victory we did gain ; 

To the enemy's country marched we in ; . 
But I could little advantage win, 
Being left with a broken shin. 

Chorus. — Oh ah ! oh ah ! oh ah [ 

So now I've set my heart on naught; 

And the whole world 's mine, as though 'twere 
bought i 

And now my song and our feast are done, 
So dr^n your glasses every one, 
Till every drop is gone. 

Chorus. — ^Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! 



^CH hab mein Sach auf Nichts gestellt 

^ Juchhe! 

Drum ist's so wohl mir in der Welt^ 

Juchhe ! 
Und wer will mein Camerade seyn, 
Der stosse mit an, der stimme mit ein 
Bei dieser Neige Wein. 

Chor. — Juchhe! juchhe! juchhe! 

Ich stellt' mein Sach auf Geld und Gut, 

Juchhe ! 
Dariiber verier ich Freud' und Muth, 

Die Miinze rollte hier und dort, 
Und hascht' ich sie an einem Ort, 
Am Andem war sie fort. 

Auf Weiber stellt ich nun mein' Sach,— 

Daher kam mir viel Ungemach,— 

Die Falsche sucht' sich ein ander Theil, 
Die Treue machte mir Langeweil : 
Die Beste war nicht fail. 

Ich stellt' mein Sach auf Buhm and Ehr ; 

Juchhe ! 
Und sieh ! gleich hat ein Andrer mehr, 



WIe ich mich hat hervorgetlian 
Da sahen die Leute scheel mich an, 
Hatte Keiaem Becht g 

Ich getzt' mein Sach auf Kampf und Krieg,— 

Uad uns gelang so mancher Sieg,— 

^Vir zogen in Feindes Land tunein, 
Dem Freunde sollt's nicht viel besser seyn, 
Und ich verlor ein Bein. 

Nun hab idi mein Sach anf Kichts gestellt, 

Und mein gehort die ganze Welt, — 

2u Ende geht nun Sang und Schmaus,— 
Nun trinkt miralle Neigea aus; 
Die letzte muss heraus 1 



Let us then rejoice, ere youth 

From our grasp hath hurried; 
After cheerful youth is past, 
Aft;er cheerless age, at last, 
In the earth we're buriecL 

Where are those who lived of yore^ 

Men whose days are over ? 
To the realms above thee go, 
Thence unto the shades below, 
An' thou wilt discover. 

Short and fleeting is our life,— 
Swift away 'tis wearing ; 

Swiftly, too, will death be here^ 

Cruel, us away to tear. 

Naught that liveth sparing. 

Long live Academia, — 

And our tutors clever ; 
All our comrades long live they, 
And our female comrades gay 
May they bloom for ever. 

Long live ev'ry maiden true. 

Who has worth and beauty ; 
And may ev'ry matron who 
Kind and good is, flourish too, 
Each who does her duty. 

•■• » 

students' and oonvivias songs* 197 

Long may also live our state, 

And the king who guides us ; 
Long may live our town, and fate 
Prosper each Mecaenas great, 

Who good things provides us. 

Perish melancholy woe, 

Perish who derides us ; 
Perish fiend, and perish so 
Every antiburschian foe 

Who for laughing chides us. 


>jg|AUDEAMUS igitur 
v^ Juvenes dum sumus; 
Post jucundam iuventutem, 
Post molestam senectutem, 
Nos habebit humus. — 

Ubi sunt qui ante nos 
In mundo fuere ? 

Transesls ad superos, 

Abeas ad inferos, 
Quos si vis videre. 

Vita nostra brevis est, 

Brevi finietur; 
Venit mors velociter, 
Bapit nos atrociter, 

Nemini parcetur. 


Vivat academia, 

Vivant professores, 
Vivat membrum quodlibet, 
Vivat membra quaelibet, 
Semper sint in flore. 

Vivant omnes virgines 
Faciles, formosae ; 
Vivant et mulieres, 
Tenerse, amabiles, 
Bonse, laboriosfie. 

Vivat et respublica 

Et qui illam regit, 
Vivat nostra civitas 
Msecenatum caritas, 
Quae nos hie protegit. 

Pereat tristitia, 

Pereant osores, 
Pereat diabolus, 
Quivis antiburschia3, 
Atque irrisores. 


Thbee comrades dwelt together 

In pleasant harmooy, 
The wine-cup circled so ga.i\j 

Through the little company. 

Then loudly they laughed and shouted 
In joyous mirth and firee ; 

The cares of the world flitted by them, 
And all tta misery. 





But one of the comrades perished ; 

The second soon passed away ; 
And the third sat alone in the chamber^ 

So dreary, and erst so gay. 

But still, when of mirth and gladness 
The hour came round again, 

He filled as of yore the goblets, 
And sang with might and main. 

As thus he sat once at table, 

And sang to the harp's sweet tone. 

To the bright red wine in his goblet 
A tear-drop fell sparkling down. 

^ I drink you a health, dear brethren ; 

Why sit ye thus silent and sad ! 
For what has the world worth having. 

If none will drink and be glad ? ** 

The goblets clinked together, 
And empty stood suddenly ; 
I ** Fiducit, jovial brother ! " 

And never again drank he* 


S hatten drei Gesellen 
Ein fein Collegium, 
Es krieste so frohlich der Becher 
In dem kleinen Kreise herum. 



Sie lachten dazu und sangen, 

TJnd waren froh und frei, 
Des Weldaufs Elend und Sorgen 

Sie gingen an ihnen vorbei. 

Da starb von den Dreien der Eine, 

Der Andere folgte ihiri nach, 
Und es blieb der Dritte alleine 

In dem oden Jubelgemach. 

Und wenn die Stunde gekommen 

Des Zechens und der Lust, 
Dann that er die Becher fiillen 

Und sapg aus voUer Brust. 

S.0 sass er einst auch beim Mahle, 

Und sang zum Saitenspiel, 
Und zu dem Wein im Pokale 

Eine helle Thrane fiel. 

** Ich trink euch ein SmoUis, ihr Briider 

Wie sitzt ihr so stuiiim und still ? 
Was soil aus der Welt denn werden 

Wenn keiner mehr singen wiU?*' 

Da klangen der Glaser dreie, 

Und wurden mahHg leer. 
^^Fiducitj frohlicher Bruder!" 

Der trank keinen Tropfen mehr. 



Th. EdBHXB. 

I SING of three stars that so brightly 

Through all our life's darkness will shine ; 

The stars they all glisten so g£uly, 

Their names are called — ^song, love, and wine. 

La the voice of the song ever dwelling 
A true, kindly heart find we there ; 

In song is renewing of pleasure, 
In song sorrow melteth in air. 

And WINE to our song shall be mated ; 

A mighty and marvellous thing, 
That throws o'er the world with its brightness 

The glowing effulgence of spring. 

If then the third star glances o'er us, 

With joyously beckoning sign, 
Then wraps the song's gladness our bosom, 

Then gloweth our heart as with wine. 

Look down, ye three glorious stars, then, 
In each of our bosoms look down ; 

May song, and may wine, and affection, 
In life and in death, be our own. 

And minstrelsy, wine, and affection 

To cheer our gay evening shall throng ; 

Then health to the man who invented 
First kissing — and drinking — and song. 


students' and oonyiyial sonqs. 203 


/|f^S blinken drei freundliche Sterne, 
\a) Li's Dunkel des Lebens hinein ; 
Die Sterne sie funkeln so traulich, 

Sie heissen — ^^ Lied, Liebe, und Wein/' 

Es lebt in der Stimme des Liedes 
Ein treues, mitfiihlendes Herz ; 

Im Liede verjiingt sich die Freude, 
Im Liede verwehet der Schmerz. 

Der Wein ist der Stimme des Liedes 
Zum freudigen Wunder gesellt, 

Und malt sich mit gliihenden Strahlen 
Zum ewigen Friihling der Welt. 

Doch schimmert mit freudigem Winken 
Der Dritte der Stem' erst herein, 

Dann klingt's in der Seele wie Lieder I 
Dann gliiht es im Herzen wie Wein I 

Drum blinket, ihr freundlichen Sterne, 

In unsere Herzen hinein, 
Und leuchte durch Leben und Sterben 

Uns Lieder und Liebe und Wein. 

Denn Becher und Lieder und Liebe 
Die schmiicken die festliche Nacht ! 

Drum lebe, wer Kiissen und Lieben 
Und Trinken und Singen erdacht« 



(Ik's JKrin^ans.) 

HorFMAHir YON Fallbbslbbev. 

To the winehouse drives me this and that; 
I know not who, and I know not what — 

It drives me still to the winehouse. 
For hours I love to linger there, 
And I know no grief, and know no care, 

Because — ^I sit in the winehouse. 

Some jovial fellow comes to rest ; 
Together we converse and jest — 

Now welcome, friend, to the winehouse. 
May thus blithe heart with blither join. 
Fill, clink your glass, drink out your wine, — 

'Tis merry, here in the winehouse. 

My helpmate still will cry, I know, 
" Now, dearest husband, do not go, 

I prith'ee, into the winehouse ! '' 
But there drives me still now this, now that ; 
I know not who, and I know not what, — 

La short — ^I go to the winehouse. 


(gas Sicir font mm.) 


The song of wine 
Is short and fine, 
And tunes us for drinking, I opine : 
And who the song of wine can't say 
Had best to learn it of us to-day. 
Chorus. — The song of wine 
Is short and fine. 
And tunes us for drinking, I opine. 

Few words we bring 

Where glasses ring ; 
But wine inspireth us to sing. 
Let him who can sing, its praise declare, 
And he who can't, let him hum the air. 
Chorus. — ^Few words we bring, &c. 

Wine clears the blood, 

Gives hardihood. 
And makes our hearts all fair and good* 
Good wine all sorrow kills with speed, 
And nerves our breast for noble deed. 
Chorus. — ^Wine clears the blood, &c. 

The toper brave 

No lock need have; 
To be rich and great, no wealth he'll crave ; 
Olympian gods, we'll quaflf our wine, 
And here shall be our hill divine. 
Chorus. — The toper brave, &c. 


All brethren be 

All equal, free, 
In Bacchus' brave community. 
noble wine, thy magic reign 
Brings back the golden age again ! 
Chorus. — ^AU brethren be, &c. 



G. W. C. Staek. 

The kings of all the earth we are 

By title of our pleasure. 
What boots us on our coat a star? 

What use is crown or treasure ? 
Wine in our goblets mantling see, 
And everything our own shall be. 

The kings of all the earth we are, 
And as for laws, we'll make them ; 

More worthy they than money, far, — 
No honest man dare break them. 

Wine in our goblets mantling see, 

And everything our own shall be. 

Kind-hearted, and a foe to none. 
Ne'er in a cheat detected, — 

A friend to every honest one. 
By all alike respected, — 

Shall every man, in his degree. 

Both rich and poor, in future be. 


A clever, penetrating brain ; 

A heart of honest mettle ; 
Fine stalwart limbs all free from pain ; 

A good meal in the kettle ; 
And stout old wine — and courage free — 
Shall not so rare in future be. 

To each and all our maidens mild 

A husband shall be meted, 
And every man by wife and child 

Shall find his bliss completed ; 
And while our mantling wine quaff we, 
It seems but right that this should be. 

Who to their brothers' benefit 

Devote their time and powers, 
Shall, like ourselves, carousing sit 

For many happy hours. 
It is our will that this should be ; 
Goblet in hand, we thus decree. 

The poorer, too, shall opened see i * 

The kindly rich man's portal ; 
We men are all one family ; 

Here 's health to every mortal ! 
And, friends, a bumper empty we — 

May all our fellows happy be ! 



'IR sind die Konige der Welt, 
Wir sind's durch uns're Freude 
Was hilft die Kron' und vieles Geld ? 

Was hilft der Stern am Kleide 
In unsem Glasem perlet Wein, 
Und alles soil jetzt unser sein I 

Wir sind die Konige der Welt, 

Wir geben ihr Gesetze ; 
Die gelten kiinftig mehr als Geld ; 

Kein Biedrer sie verletze ! 
In unsem Glasern perlet Wein ; 
Drum, hore. Welt ! so soil es sein I 

Vor Herzen gut, und Keinem Feind, 
Und fern von Trug und Neide, 

Und aller guten Menschen Freund, 
Und aller Menschen Freude, 

Soil kiinftig jeder, gross und klein, 

Und reich und arm, auf Erden sein 

Ein warmes, immer reges Herz, 
Bei hellem Licht im Kopfe ; 

Gesunde Glieder ohne Schmerz, 
Gesunde Speis' im Topfe, 

Und guter Muth und guter Wein 

SoU kunftig nirgends selten sein 


Die Madchen sollen so geschwind 
Als mdglich Gatten haben, 

Und susses Grliick durch Weib und Kind 
Soli alle Manner laben ! 

So daucht's uns gut beim Grlase Wein ; 

So wollen wit's ! So soil es sein ! 

Die Manner, welche Zeit und Kraft 
Dem Wohl der Briider weihen, 

Die sollen sich, beim Hebensaft 
Becht oft, wie wir jetzt, freuen I 

So wollen wii^s, so soil es sein ; 

So fjigen wir's beim Qlase Wein ! 

Der Reiche soli mit milder Hand 
Dem schwachen Armen geben ! 

Wir Menscben sind una nab verwandt : 
Ein jeder Mensch soil leben ! 

Ergreift das Glaa, und trinkt den Wein ; 

Ein jeder Mensch soil gliicklicb sein I 



Brothers, here's not wine, but beer ; 
Fill your glasses, brothers dear. 
Here's a health to who can fight 
Like a man for freedom's right ! 

Freedom is the nobler part, 
Nen'es the arm, and steels the heart; 
Health to all, whoe'er they be, 
Who have 'scaped from slavery. 

Happy whosoe'er can wend 
On his road, and find a friend ; 
Happy none the less the wight 
Who doth love a maiden bright. 

Should my grave lie in thy way, 
Pause an instant there, I pray ; 
Write thou then the stone upon, 
** As a friend this man I^ve known.^^ 

Rise, my brethren, drink and sing ! 
Clink your glasses, make them ring ! 
Health to every German stout 
Who can drain his goblet out ! 


(Jit Sixij *"> ^•lU.) 

jj HERE was a King in Thul4 
Full Mthful to the grave, 
To whom hia dying true love 
A golden beaker gave. 

' He counted nought so highly ; 

;\ ) " At every feast was fain , 

While still his eyes would moisten, 
The golden cup to driun. 

And when his life was waning, 

His townships o'er he told ; 
Gave all to his successor, 

Gave not the cup of gold. 

Aloft at the regal banquet. 

Among his knights sat he ■^.. 

All in the hall of his fathers, 

In the caBtle by the sea. 

There stood the hoary toper, 
And drank bis life's last glow. 

And cast the sacred goblet 

To the sounding surge below. 


He watched it filling, drinking. 
And sinking beneath the sea, 

And then his eyes were darkened. 
And never again drank he. 



Of all the lands on earth that be, 
The German land 's the land for me ; 

Bedewed with Heaven's blessing: 
And though nor gold nor jewels rare. 
Good store of men and maidens fair. 

And com and wine, possessing. 

Of all the tongues on earth that be, 

The German tongue 's the tongue for me. 

Sweet sounds it may not borrow : 
But when our hearts would hold discourse. 
We ne'er shall find it lacketh force 

To tell of joy or sorrow. 

Of all the maids on earth that be. 
The German maid's the maid for me ; 

A beauteous violet seeming : 
With sweetest fragrance to the sense, 
With not a thorn to give offence. 

Through many a summer beaming. 

students' and convivial songs, 213 

Of all the wives on earth that be, 
The German wife 's the wife for me ; 

In form and mind a treasure. 
At home her ministry is seen ; 
She will not roam abroad, I ween. 

To find elsewhere her pleasure. 

Of customs that on earth there be, 
The German customs give to me — 

Good customs — I revere them. 
Through them men, hale in heart and limb, 
Alternate sense with wit and whim. 

And keep the wine-cup near them. 

Then fill it up with German wine. 
That Cometh from our German Rhine, 

To ev'ry heart 's elation ; 
Long live our German Fatherland ! 
Long live of love and truth the band 

In our confederation ! 





Elements four. 

When closely encurl'd, 

Build up our being, • 
Fashion the world. 

Press ye the lemon's 
Juice-yielding star ; 

Hard is our being's 
Innermost core. 

Now with the sugar, 
Pleasant and sweet. 

Tame ye the power 
Fervent with heat. 

Pour ye the water's 
Freshening fall ; 

Water encircles 

Peaceful our balL 

Drops of the spirit 
Pour ye thereon ; 

Life to the living 
Gives it alone. 

Quaff ere its fragrance. 
Fleeting, is o'er ; 

Sources that glow not 
Gladden no more. 






lER Elemente, 

Innig gesellt, 
Bilden das Leben, 

Bauen die Welt 

Presst der Zitrone 

Safdgen Stern; 
Herb ist des Lebens 

Innerster Kern. 

Jetzt mit des Zuckers, 
Lindemdem Saft, 

Zahmet die herbe 
Brennende Kraft. 

Giesset des Wassers 

Sprudelndem Schwall^ 
Wasser umfanget 

Ruhig das AIL 

Tropfen des Geistes 

Giesset hinein, 
Leben dem Leben 

Giebt er allein. 

Eh es verduftet 

Schopfet es schnell, 
Nur wenn er gliihet 

Labet der QueU. 



(Srost bthn Sc^tibtn.) 


It cannot remain so for ever 

Here under the moon that doth change ;. 
There blooms for a time, and then fadeth 

What with us creation doth range. 

Full many a merry companion 

Before us these regions hath trod ; 

In love, then, let's empty a goblet 

To those who now sleep 'neath the sod. 

On earth there'll be many, rejoicing, 
Long after we've vanished away. 

Who, when 'neath the sod we are sleeping. 
To as the like friendship shall pay. 

We're bound by such hearty aflFection, 
We're seated together so gay. 

Each lightens the life of the others ; 
Ah ! could it but be so for aye. 

But, since it can't always remain so. 

Hold firm to your joy, friends, at least 

Who knoweth how soon we are scatter'd 
By fortune to west and to east. 

But, though we are far from each other, 
Our hearts shall not with us be gone. 

students' and convivial songs. 217 

And all of us, all, shall be gladden'd, 
When fortune hath smiled upon one. 

And should we again meet together, 

This e'er changing life passing through. 

We'll join to this merry conclusion 
A jovial beginning anew. 


/^S kann ja nicht immer so bleiben, 
vv Hier unter dem wechselnden Mond, 
Es blUht eine Zeit und verwelket, 
Was mit uns die Erde bewohnt. 

Es haben viel frohliche Menschen 
Lang vor uns gelebt und gelacht — 

Den Ruhenden unter dem Grase 

Sei freundlich ein Becher gebracht ! 

Es werden viel frohliche Menschen 

Lang nach uns des Lebens sich freun, 

Tins Ruhenden unter dem Grase 

Den Becher der Frohlichkeit weihn ! 

Wir sitzen so traulich beisammen, 
Und haben uns AUe so lieb, 

Wir heitem einander das Leben ; 

Ach, wenn es nur immer so bliebl 


Doch, weil es nicht immer kann bleiben. 

So haltet die Freude recht fest ; 
Wer weiss denn, wie bald uns zerstreuet 

Das Schicksal nach Ost und nach West ! 

Doch sind wir auch fern von einander, 

So bleiben die Herzen sich nah, 
Und Alle, ja Alle wird's freuen 

Wenn Einem was Gutes geschah. 

Und kommen wir wieder zusammen 

Auf wechselnder Lebensbahn, 
So kniipfen an's frohliche Ende 

Den frohUchen Anfang wir an. 

AtLgast Yon Eotzebne was bom at Weimar in the year 1761. Dazing a 
ODg series t)f years he devoted himself to dramatic writing, and, as a play- 
wright, was as indefifttigable as he was popnlar. TUronghont his yolnminons 
works, however, it is impossible to find a single indio^tion of genins, or even of 
a high order of talent. Eotzebne's dramatic writings are entirely devoid of 
the elements of stability, being written evidently with no higher aim than to 
please the pit and obtain the noisy snfErage of the gallery. A certain skill in 
the constmction of a plot, an enlarged knowledge of stage effect^ and an ability 
to interlard a piece at frequent intervals with the sentiments and tags which 
the gallery do most affect) formed the £)undation on which Eotzebne built his 
hope of success ; and the success he achieved was, in consequence, brilliant and 
noisy, but ephemeral. The morality of his pieces is not even donbtfdl ; his 
characters are drawn as coarsely and broadly as the " Sir Matthew Dflites*' of 
Foote. His plays — ''Pizarro,** and ''Menschenhass xmd Bene" (Misan- 
thropy and Penitence) have been translated into English ; the latter under 
the name ot ''The Stranger." Eotzebue*s sequel to the latter play, entitled 
**Die edle Liige" (The Noble Falsehood), was a production from which 
audiences who would listen to the plays of Wycherley and Congreve would turn 
in disgust. Eotzebue is associated with a dark period of Gtonan literary 
history. The drcumstances of his assassination by the candidate Sand, in 
1819, are well known. Some pleasing songs occur in several of his pieces. 



What comes there from the hill, 
What comes there from the hill, 
What comes there from the leathern hill ? 
Ca, 9aj leathern hill. 
What comes there from the hill ? 

It is a postboy, sure ! &c. 
It is a leathern postboy, sure ! &c. 

The postboy, what brings he ? &c. 
The leathern boy, what bringeth he ? &c. 

He bringeth us a fox ! &c. 
He bringeth us a leathern fox ! &c 

Tour servant, gentlemen, 
Your servant, gentlemen. 
Your servant, my very worthy gentlemen ! 
Ca, 9a, worthy gentlemen — 
Your servant, gentlemen ! 

How does our dear papa? &c. 
How does our leathern dear pcipa ? &c. 

He's reading Cicero ! &c. 
He's reading leathern Cicero ! &c 

How does our dear mamma ? &c. 
How does our leathern dear mamma.? fe-,^. 


She boik my father's tea ! kc 
She boik my father's leathern tea ! kc 

How does our Ma'm'selle Sceur? &C 
How does our leathern Ma'm'selle Soeur ? &c» 

She sits at home and sews ! &;c 
She sits at home and leathern sews ! &c. 

How does our rector do? &c. 
How does our leathern rector do ? &c» 

He's whipping all his boys! &c. 
He's whipping all his leathern boys ! &c» 

And smokes our fox tobac' ! &c. 
And smokes our leathern fox tobac' ! &c. 

A little, gentlemen ! &c. 
A little, my very worthy gentlemen ! &a 

Then let him light one up ! &c. 
Then let him light one leathern up ! &c. 

Oh, dear ! I feel so ill ! &c. 
Oh, dear ! I feel so leathern ill ! &c 

Then let him have it out ! &c. 
Then let him have it leathern out ! &a 

Ah ! now I'm well again ! &c. 
Ah ! now I'm leathern well again ! &c. 

students' and convivial songs, 221 

Thus grows the fox a Bursch, 
Thus grows the fox a Bursch, 
Thus grows the leathern fox a Bursch ! 
Ca, 9a, fox a Bursch, 
Thus grows the fox a Bursch ! 

Remarkable, indeed almost inexplicable, is tbe popularity of '* Was kommt 
dort yon der Hoh " among the German students, who cherish a great affection 
for this curiously vapid effusion. It is, however, only justice to the anony- 
mous German author to state that the word "ledem" in the original, which 
occurs in each verse, and has been literally rendered ''leathern," has in 
German also a figurative meaning — signifying, in &ct, dull, stupid, slow. 
Thus, in *' der ledeme Fuchs, der ledeme Herr Papa " the adjective is to be 
vaken in its figurative meaning, and herein lies the humour ( 1) of the song. 



Thy palm, good brother, show to me, 
And fill with wine my glass, 

And I will prophecy to thee 
What sure shall come to pass. 

List to this word ; a weighty store 
Of truth it's based upon, — 

When four-and-twenty hours are o'er 
Another day is gone. 

When murky night succeeds to day 
All cats are gray of hue ; 

The man who's kissed his wife, I say, 
Has kissed his consort too. 


Who bring their ofispring to the font 
Have long each other known; 

Who bears his father's name is wont 
To be his father's son. 

Who asked of thee a charity 
Was poor, and not well-fed ; 

Who owns an ox, 'tis sure that he 
Must have an ox's head. 

When any nut a kernel lacks, 

'Tis hollow, I can tell ; 
When ague any man attacks, 

I say — that man's unwell. 

When once the running spigot flags. 
The cask is spent, no doubt ; 

When thieves have found our money bags, 
We're apt to find it out. 

No empty dish provision gives. 
Whereon a man may dine ; 

No country dweller ever lives 
In cities, I opine. 

Who from a needle runs away. 

Will from a sabre flee ; 
Who looks much like an ape, I say, 
• Will never handsome be. 

students' and convivial songs. 223 

When any man has hay to spare, 

His cow is snugly bedded ; 
And he whose sister's passing fair, 

May chance to see her wedded. 

Look on yon mirror steadfastly, 

One fool shall meet thy view ; 
The second fool thou canst not see, — 

He stands before it too. 

The house thou hast of timber made 

Has not been built of stone ; 
When all my song is sung or said, 

It probably is done. 


lEB, blanker Bruder, giebmir Wein, 
Und lass die Hand mich sehn, 
So woUen wir dir prophezeih'n. 
Was sicher wird gescheh'n. 

Merk' auf — es ist ein hohes Wort 

Und liegt viel Wahrheit drin, — 
Sind vier und zwanzig Stunden fort, 

So ist ein Tag dahin. 

Sobald es Nacht geworden ist, 

Sind alle Eatzen grau, 
Und wenn der Mann sein' Gattin kiisst, 

So kiisst er seine Frau. 



Ein jedes Paar dastaofen fiesB, 
Kennt sidi 9^ lange stbaa ; 

Und wen man nadi dem Yater hiesa 
Das war des Yatei^s Sohn. 

Der didi am eine Wcdilthat bat, 

Der war ein armer Tn^f ; 
Und wer den ganzen Odisen hat. 

Hat auch den Ochsenkopfl 

Wenn in der Nuss das Eemchen fehlt, 

1st ae vermuthlich hohl ; 
Der, den das kalte Fieber qualt, 

Befindet sich nicht wohL 

Wo aus dem Hahnchen nichts mehr braust 

1st oft ein leeres Fass, 
Und wo ein Dieb uns weggemaust, 

Yermisst man meistens was. 

Yon Schiisseln, wo die Speise fehlt 
Wird leichtlich Keiner satt ; 

Und wer das Land zum Wohnsitz wahlt 
Der wohnt nicht in der Stadt 

Wer von der Nadelspitze flieht, 
Bleibt nicht vor Degen stehn ; 
■ ' Und wer den Affen ahnlich sieht 

Wird nie besonders schon. 

Wer Heu genug im Stalle hat, 
Dem wird die Kuh nicht mager 

TJnd wer eine schone Schwester hat, 
Der kriegt bald einen Schwager. 

Wenn du zum Spiegel dich bemiihst 
Zeigt sich der erete Thor ; 

Der Zweite, der nicht sichtbar ist, 
Steht meistentheils davor. 

Baust du Ton Brettern dir ein Haus, 
So hast du keins von St«in, 

ITiid ist des Sanger's Liedchen aus, 
Wird's wohl zu Ende seyn. 


(SSas bt im ^tOt f) 


When we at wine sit, what is there the best thing? 
Glass-dinking, out-drinking — ^that's the very best thing ! 

Come, my worthy camarade, 

Thine am I, with heart and deed; 

Who to-day the glass doth hold, 

May ere mom lie dead and cold. 
Then, when we at wine sit, is the very best thing 
Glass-clinking, out-drinking ! — ^that's the very best thing 

When we the foe meet, what is there the best thing ? 
Home-striking, home-striking — ^that's the very best thing! 

When we hack and hew amain^ 

Sure are we respect to gain : 

Ev'ry man our shot lays low 

Makes when he falls a deep low bow. 
Then, when we the foe meet, is the very best thing 
Home-striking, home-striking! — ^that's the very best thing I 

When maidens fly us, what is there the best thing? 

Fast-holding, fast-holding — ^that's the very best thing 
He best pleaseth maiden gay 
Who the " whole world's lord " doth play, 
Who, ne'er stopping leave to crave, 
Steals the kiss he fain would have. 

Then, when maidens fly us, is the very best thing 

Fast-holding, fast-holding ! — ^that's the very best thing I 




J. Ebbhbs. 

Arise ! and the bright sparkling wine still quaff we ! 
Farewell, then, ye dear ones, for parting must be ; 
Farewell now, ye mountains and dwellings of home^ 
It mightily moves me 'mid strangers to roam. 

Not even in heaven the bright sup may stay ; 

He's driven o'er mountain and ocean away : 

Nor resteth the billow alone by the strand ; 

The storm-winds are rushing with might through the land. 

With clouds that fly onward the wild bird must wing, 
The carols of home 'mid the strangers to sing : 
The youth, too, it drives to go forth from his hearth, 
And roam, Uke his parent, the wandering earth. 

Away o'er the ocean bright birds greet him fair. 
That far from the fields of his country flew there ; 
And flowers familiar are blooming around, 
That winds from his country have strown on the ground. 

The house of his fathers — ^those birds know it well: 
Such flowers he once plucked for his love in the dell : 
Thus love travels with him, and wends at his hand, 
To 'mind him of home in the &r-distant land. 



OHLAUF ! noch getrunken den funkelnden Wein, 
Ade nun, ihr Lieben, geschieden muss seiu ! 
Ade nun, ihr Berge, du vaterlich Haus, 
Es treibt in die Feme mich machtig hinaus ! 

Die Sonne sie bleibet am Himmel nicht stehn^ 
Es treibt sie durch Lander und Meere zu gehn ; 
Die Woge nicht haftet am einsamen Strand, 
Die Stiirme sie brausen mit Macht durch das Land. 

Mit eilenden Wolken der Vogel dort zieht, 
Und singt in der Feme ein heimathlich Lied. 
So treibt es den Burschen durch Walder und Feld, 
Zu gleichen der Mutter, der wandernden Welt. 

Da griissen ihn Vogel bekannt iiber 'm Meer 
Sie flogen von Fluren der Heimath hieher, 
Da duften die Blumen vertraulich um ihn, 
Sie trieben vom Lande die Liifte dahin. 

Die Vogel sie kennen sein vaterUch Haus, 
Die Blumen einst pfluckt' er der Liebe zum Strauss, 
Und Liebe sie folgt ihm, sie geht ihm zur Hand 
So wird ihm zur Heimath das femeste Land. 

AND S0S6S \Vi V?>K\%tW ««>TUIiE. 

The huntmg songs of the Germans are not so varied in 
character as those of our own country; nor do they 
possess any peculiar excellence. A very few specimens will 
serve as types of the entire class. Songs in praise of nature, 
and of the seasons, are exceedingly numerous and popular. 
On the one subject of the return of spring a great variety 
of songs have been written. The description of outdoor life 
and outdoor occupations, apart from wood-craft, has been 
frequently chosen as a subject by the song writers, and 
eagerly appreciated by the people. 



In the wild, wild wood I shoot the stag, 

The doe in the darksome brake. 
The eagle on hia mountdn crag, 

The wild duck on the lake. — 
Where marks my gun, no refuge can 

A place of safety prove ; 
Yet, though I be a sturdy man, 

I've felt the power of love. 


Full oft in winter's tempest time 

The earth I've made my bed, 
A stone block frosted o'er with rime 

The pillow for my head ; 
On thorns, as on a couch, I rest, 

Though north wind howls around; 
But yet my weather-harden'd breast 

The weight of love hath found. 

The falcon is. my comrade gay, 

The wolf my warlike foe ; 
With bay of hound begins my day, 

My night with wild hallo ; 
A fir-twig, 'stead of garden flow'r, 

Upon my hat I've bound ; 
Yet my wild huntsman's blood the power 

Of hidden love hath found. 



Long live on earth whatever 

The mantle green doth grace ; 
The woodland and the meadow. 

The huntsman and the chase I 
'Tis merry in the greenwood. 

Where stag and hind do spring ; 
When loudly sounds the bugle, 

When rifles flash and ring. 
Trara! trara! 


What though with swarthy powder 

Fve scorched my eyelid o'er f 
I care not, for my maiden 

Will love me as before. 
My pointer and my maiden 

Are ever true to me ; 
What need have I to care, then^ 

For world or vanity ? 
Trara! trara! 

In woods am I the monarch, — 

The wood is God's abode ! 
I hear his mighty breathing 

For ever borne abroad. 
And I will be a huntsman 

So long the breeze doth blow; 
And I will kiss my maiden 

So long her lips do glow. 
Trara! trara! 

Come to the free wild forest, 

My child, and dwell with me ; 
Of boughs that never wither 

ril build a hut for thee ! 
Not in the cold, gray village, 

A resting-place I'll crave ; 
The wildwood is my dwelUng, 

And there shall be my grave 
Trara! trara! 



/j|CS lebe was auf Erden 

vy Stolziert in gniner Tracht, 

Die Walder und die Felder, 

Der Jager und die Jagd ! 
Wie lustig ist's im Griinen, 

Wenn's helle Jagdhorn schallt, 
Wenn Hirsch und Rehe springen, 

Wenn's blitzt, und dampft, und knallt 1 
Trara! trara! 

Ich hab' mir schwarz gesenget, 

Das rechte Augenlied ; 
Was thut's, da mich mein Dimel 

So schwarz auch geme sieht? 
Mein Stutz und meine Dime 

Wc J uiu ich weiter fragen 

Nach Welt und Klerisei? 
Trara ! 

Im Walde bin ich Eonig ; 

Der Wald ist Gottes Haus I 
Da weht sein starker Odem, 

Lebendig ein und aus. 
Ein Jager will ich bleiben 

So lang die Tannen griin } 
Mein Madchen will ich kiissen 

So lang die Lippen gliihn. 


Komm Kind, mit mir zu wohnen 

Im freien Waldrevier ; 
Von immergriiDen Zweigen 

Bau ich ein Hiittchen dir. 
Dann steig' ich nimmer i^deder 

Id's graue Dorf hinab, 
Im Walde will ich leben, 

Im Wald grabt mir mein Grab. 


What in all this world is there ? 
Nothing for the which I care, 
Save the huntsman's noble life, 
Which is still with pleasure rife. 
Who the woodland craft hath learned. 
He a monarch's joy hath earned. 

Through the greenwood, when I wend. 
And my clever hound doth stand, 
Game in plenty brings he me. 
That I kill it speedily. 
Who the woodland craft hath learned. 
He a monarch's joy hath earned. 


Through the greenwood blithe I go, 
Where lie lurking stag and roe ; 
Hear the merry thrushes sing, 
See the nimble wild-deer spring. 
Who the woodland craft hath learned, 
He a monarch's joy hath earned. 

Hath the chase me weary made, 

Lie I in the cooling shade, 

Stretched beneath the greenwood tree, 

Sweetest visions come to me. 

Only of my maiden fair 

Are the dreams that haunt me there 

Now farewell ! — ^the chase is o'er ; 
Homeward march we now once more ; 
Blithely eat the meat we win. 
For the chase hath happy been. 
Who the woodland craft hath learned, 
He a monarch's joy hath earned. 

(§er Wtmt '§mc^.) 


Three huntsmen forth to the greenwood went ; 
To hunt the white hart was their intent. 

They laid them under a green fir-tree. 
And a singular vision befel those three. 


The First JBuntsman. 
I dreamt I arose and beat on the bush, 
When forth came rushing the stag, — ^hush, hush ! 

The Second. 
As with baying of hound he came rushing along, 
I fired my gun at his hide, — ^^gy ^^^g I 

The Third. 
And when the stag on the ground I saw^ 
I merrily wound my horn, — ^trara 

Conversing thus did the huntsmen Ue, 

When lo ! the white hart came bounding by ;— • 

And before the huntsmen had noted him well| 
He was up and away over mountain and delL— • 
Hush, hush ! — ^bing bang ! — ^trara I 



S gingen drei Jager wohl auf die Birsch, 
Sie wollten eijagen den weissen Hirsch. 

Sie legten sich unter 'nen Tannenbaum, 
Da batten die drei einen seltsamen Traum. 

Der Erste. 
Mir hat getraumt, ich klopf auf den Busch 
Da rauschte der Hirsch heraus, — ^husch, husch 


Der Zweite. 
Und als er kam mit der Hunde GeklaiF, 
Da brannt' ich ihm auf das Fell, — ^piflF, paff 

Der Dritte. 
XJnd als ich den Hirsch an der Erde sah 
Da stiess ich lustig in's Horn, — ^trara ! 

So lagen sie da, and sprachen, die drei^ 
Da rannte der weisse Hirsch vorbei, — 

Und eh' die drei Jager ihn recht geseh'n, 
So war er davon iiber Tiefen und Hoh'n, — 
Husch, husch ! — ^pifF, paff! — ^trara ! 


W. G. Beoksb. 

How beauteous, how lovely, is ev'rything here ! 
The sun on the hill-side, the shade on the weir ; 
Where through the bright crystal the fishes are seen, 
Where wave o'er the water the alder-trees green. 

How glow the bright meadows with young verdure new ! 
How fresh bloom the flow'rets bespangled with dew 
The berry already is blushing in red ; 
The wheat-ear is smiling with promise of bte^d. 


The slender birch waves in the whispering grove ; 

The blackberry twineth the rockstone above ; 

The honey-bee hums as he swiMy speeds on ; 

The frog's voice is drowned in the lark's sweeter tone. 

How beauteous, how lovely do all things appear ! 

The waterfall's murmur, the shade on the weir. 

On all sides around us pure joys are unfurled, 

To light with their radiance our path through the world. 

(SxmKUtbr am Pag*) 


Now broach ye the wine-cask, 

Now wreathe ye the tun, 
And let us be merry, 

For May has begun ; 
The winds are all silenced. 

Scarce whispers the breeze, 
The honey-bees murmur 

Round blossoming trees. 

The nightingale carols 

The green coppice through. 
Our goblets are tinted 

With eve's rosy hue ; 
Then broach ye the wine-cask, 

Then wreathe ye the tun. 
Then let us be merry. 

For May has begun. 


To supper, to supper, 

Bring bottles I say, 
For two flowing goblets 

Are emblems of May ; 
Who drops on the blossoms 

His white and his red, 
While birds hatch their young ones 

In May's grateful shade. 

May gives to the forest 

Its love-breathing song, 
Makes wine-cups to vibrate 

Harmonious and long ; 
In youths and fair maidens 

To love he gives birth. 
And rarest occasion 

For gladness and mirth. 

Then youths and fair maidens 

Tour thanks to him say, 
Let glasses ring loudly. 

In honour of May ; 
And long bloom the bower 

That kisses conceals, 
And high grow the grape-vine 

That nectar draught yields. 

And fresh be the meadows 

Where lovers repair. 
Nor aunts nor duennas 

Shall follow them there. 


Oh tarry, ye breezes. 
So jocund and gay ! 

Oh ! fade not, ye blossoms. 
So quickly away! 



Thou, beauteous youth, art welcome I 
Thou joy of nature, hail ! 

With all thy store of flow'rets 
Art welcome in the vale. 

Lo ! thou again art coming, 

As beauteous as before. 
And heartily rejoice we 

To see thy face once more. 

Hast not forgot my maiden ? 

Thou hast not, friend, I trow; 
Erst loved she me, the maiden,— 

The maiden loves me now. 

Entreating for the maiden. 

Fair flowers I sought from thee ; 

I come once more a begging. 
And \kou viVJit g^^^ tkem me. 


Thou, beauteous youth, art welcome ! 

Thou joy of nature, hail ! 
With all thy store of flow'rets 

Art welcome to the vale. 


M. HABTMAinr. 

A SPIRIT glides — I have heard it oft— • 
'Mid the glory of coming spring, 

When from the nightly stars aloft 
Swept downward its seraph wing. 

It speaks to the seed that floats in the air, 
" To the churchyard take thy flight, 

To the maiden's grave, and grow thou there 
A lily of spotless white." 

It speaks to the sapling, so thin and frail, 
" Grow till thou art large and broad ; 

As a cross one day shalt thou tell thy tale 
On the darksome forest road." 

It speaks to the ivy that's hid in the ground, 
" Stretch them forth, thy green arms all, 

And twine the crumbling ruin around. 
For see how totters this wall !" 

Remembrance and death and love combined 
From the stars of night are blown ; 

Death and remembrance, with love entwined, 
Through the glory of spring move on* 




Oh, of a gentle host and kind 
I've been a guest ere now: 

His sign was a golden apple, I mind, 
That sTiasvg ^tcfttt a V«»lE^ Vmvi^lu 


The worthy host with whom to sup 

I went, was the apple-tree ; 
Bight pleasant food, and a foaming cup 

Of nectar he gave to me. 

Full many a guest, on pinions free, 

I saw to his bower throng ; 
They sprang and they feasted joyously, 

And carolled their merry song. 

When heated and weary, sweet repose 

On soft green turf I found ^ 
My host he wrapped me, "ns: J5ad of clothes, 

With freshest foliage ^nd. 

And when I asked what I should pay, 

He shook his summit high : — 
Now, blest be my gentle host alway. 

Root, branch, and crown, say L 


{^m §'inBtblxatdm.) 

G. W. FiKK. 

Now, say, what has the daisy done^ 
That none a song has yet begun. 
Wherein is modestly set forth 
The humble, simple flow'ret's worth t 
I'll of the daisy sing to-day. 
And in its praise shall be my laj. 


The worth of things, we often find, 
Is falsely judged by human mind. 
JBiere, " Wonder, wonder ! " still we cry; 
There, prejudices blind our eye ; 
And, seeing nought, we onward pass. 
Now this is just the daisy's case. 

In proper time the daisies may 
Rejoice our hearts like roses gay ; 
Who values not the daisy, ne'er 
Shall sit among our circle here ; 
For we will sing a daisy-song- 
Who likes it not may hold his tongue. 

Full well you all, my masters, know 

How February's clad in snow ; 

Let once the thaw-wind sweep the plain^ 

And lo, the daisy blooms again ! 

'Mid winter's raging strife to be 

A token of spring's victory. 

And when that herald I espy, 
I feel my bosom bounding high. 
It seems as though, in joyful guise, 
To life renewed, all dead things rise ; 
And Death says to me, with a smile, 
" My subjects sleep but for awhile.'* 

In autumn, too, I often see. 

When leaves drop off the sapless tree, 


The daisy blooms in beauty on, 
As though its mom not yet were gone. 
Heaven grant that once my autumn hour 
May be like that of daisy flower. 

I pity much the woeful wight 
Who holds the daisy's value light. 
Who little beauties can despise, 
On greater things will close his eyes ; 
And thus, to teach us all thy worth, 
Thou little modest flower, stand forth. 


(|CJ^AS hat das Gansebliim' gethan, 

Dass Niemand hebt ein Liedlein an, 
Worin er woUt' in Einfaltsweisen 
Einmal ein niedrig Blumlein preisen ? 
Wohlan ! frisch auf ! Ich sing den Ruhm 
Der ungeriihmten Granseblum'. 

1st doch in der Verstandeswelt 

All' Sach nicht bestens g'rad bestellt ; 

Bei Einem schreit man " Wunder, Wunder ! '* 

Und's Andre halt man gleich fiir Plunder — 

Hats' nicht geschaut, weiss nicht warum 

So geht's auch mit der Ganseblum'. 

Die Gans'blum' wohl zu ihrer Zeit 

Das Herz wie eine Ros' erfreut — 

XJnd wer die Gans'blum' nicht mag schatzen 

Der soil sic^ unter uns nicht setzen ! 



Wir singen uns ein Gans'blum'lied, 

Und wers nicht mag, der sing's nicht mit» 

Ihr wisst es allzusammen klar, 
Viel Schnee liegt auf dem Februar, 
Doch thut er Mai recht herzhaftthauen, 
So kann man bald ein Gans'bliim' schauen 
Das ist recht in des Winters Erieg 
Ein Yorbild von des Lenzes Sieg. 

Weil ich solch ersten Zeugen seh', 
Hiipfb's innerlich mir in die Hoh^ 
Und alle Leichen sich erheben 
Zu einem Auferstehungsleben, 
Und freundlich ruft der Tod mir zu: 
Mein Reich liegt in der Morgenruh ! 

Audi hab' ichs viel im Herbst gesehn, 
Wenn schon die Blatter schlafen gehu. 
Da steht's und bliiht so ohzie Sorgen 
Als lebt'es noch in seinem Morgen. 
Nun, geb'es Gott, o Blumelein ! 
Dass dir mein Herbst mag ahnlich seyn. 

Drum klag' ich sehr den armen Mann, 
Der drob sich nicht erfreuen kann. 
Und wer im Eleinen nichts kann sehen, 
Mag wohl auch Grosses nicht verstehen. 
So lehr' uns alien deinen Ruhm, 
Du gar bescheid 'ne Ganseblum'. 

HUH Tina H0NO3, ETC. 


Cjfrafelinga ftinjog.) 

V. UOLLIit. 

Open your windows, open your hearla, 

And hasten, oil hasten ! 
Old Winter wants to be let out. 
All through the house he trips ebcv : : 
His mantle round his breast he strains. 
And scrapes together all his gains— 

Oh hasten ! oh hasten 1 


Open your windows, open your hearts. 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 
Before the town-gate Spring is near. 
To pull old Winter by the ear, 
To pluck his beard of hoary gray, 
For that's the wild young fellow's way — 

Oh hasten! Oh hasten! 

Open your windows, open your hearts. 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 
For Spring is here, and would fain come in. 
Hark ! hear ye not his merry din ? 
He raps and taps with main and might, 
With little floweret buds so bright — 

Oh hasten ! Oh hasten I 

Open your windows, open your hearts, 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 
If for young Spring you don't clear the way — 
He's many a servant in his pay — 
He'll call to his aid these vassals true, 
And begin to rap and to tap anew-^ 

Oh hasten ! Oh hasten ! 

Open your windows, open your hearts; 

Oh hasten ! Oh hasten ! 
With him young Morning Breeze I see : 
A chubby rosy urchin he. 
He'll blow till our windows shake and quake. 
Except for his lord a way we make — 

Oh hasten ! Oh hasten ! 

Open your windows, open your hearts, 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 
The good knight Sunshine is also come, 
Who striketh with golden weapons home* 
And Blossom-scent, the flatt'rer, too, 
Creeping the tiniest cranny through — 

Oh hasten ! Oh hasten ! 

Open your windows, open your hearts, 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 
The nightingale the charge must sound. 
Hark ! how her voice is echoed round. 
An echo, too, through my heart doth ring. 
Oh enter, yea, enter, thou lovely Spring ! 

And hasten, oh hasten ! 



(|lac^ ha finlt.) 

The fields around all empty lie, 
Our bams are stored with gnun. 

And joyfully we homeward hie, 
And bring our labour's giun. 

Lovely the field, when Spring around 

Has flung his verdure bright, 
When May has strown with flowers the ground, 

And trees a: 


But lovelier far the golden wheat 
That springeth from the soil, 

That bows the head as though to greet 
With thankfulness our toil. 

Full thirty-fold each ear doth yield, 

The single grain to pay, 
That on the mountain, vale, or field, 

We in the furrow lay. 

On wagons, 'neath their golden weight 
That groan, our maidens ride, 

The while, with honest joy elate, 
Our reapers march beside. 

Then safely and secure from harm 
We eat our well-earned food. 

While crickets on our hearthstone warm 
Chirp out their music rude. 

weakling townsman, honour thou 

The homy hand of toil : 
It keeps, whate'er thy pride may vow. 

The sov'reign and the soil. 

^^. '"'Y> 




What can lovelier be, 

What inspire more glee, 
Than the eve of a sweet spring day ? 

When buds scent the air, 

And the cloudlets fair 
Are tinged with the sun's last ray ; 
When the little birds are singing, 
And the hum of the gnat is ringing, 

And each honey-bee 

So thriftily 
Its burden is homeward bringing 1 

Then forth we roam, 

Each quitting his home, 
To sit in the mossy glade. 

And we listen long 

To the nightingale's song. 
And to pipes by the shepherds played ; 
And hark, from the lakes surrounding, 
How the song of the frogs is sounding 

Stem winter is past, 

And their blood runs fast. 
And their hearts are with courage bounding. 

Though the day wanes low, 
Yet no one may go 
From his friends without a sigh ; 


For fairer to see, 
Than his own roof-tree. 

Is the canopy spread on high ; 

But the bright spring-day is ending, 

And the silver moon is wending 
Its path on high 
Through the star-lit sky, 

Abroad its radiance sending. 


'AS kann schoner seyn, 
Was kann mehr erfreun, 
Als ein Abend in der Lenzen ? 

Wenn der Blumenduft 

Rings erfullt die Lufib, 
XJnd die Abendwolken glanzen ; 
Wann die Voglein briitend girren, 
Und am See die Miicken schwirren 

Wann die Bienelein 

Mit dem Honigseim, 
Wohl beschwert nach Hause irren, 

Dann geht man hinaus, 

Lasst zuriick das Haus, 
Setzt sich auf den weichen Rasen 

Hort den siissen Schall 

Von der Nachtigall 
Und der Hirtenflote blasen. 


Auch der Frosche Lenzgesange 
Schallen aus dem Schilf in Meiige; 

Frohlich ist ihr Muth 

Aufgethaut ihr Blut 
Nach des langen Winters Strenge. 

Sinkt die Nacht alsdann 

Gehet Jedermann, 
Ungem aus der Freunde Mitte, 

Weil des Himmels Zelt 

Ihm besser gefallt 
Als sein Dach und seine Hiitte ; 
Doch die Zeit ist hingeflogen 
Und die Nacht heraufgezogen^ 

Sammt den Stenielein 

Welche, gross und klein 
Glaiizen an dem Himmelsbogen. 




From the mountain to the hill side, 

Downward all the vale along, 
Hark ! a stirring, as of pinions ! 

Hark ! a rushing, as of song ! 
To the bold unfettered impulse 

Joy and triumph shall succeed ; 
So in love be still thy striving, 

So thy life be life of deed. 


Ah ! the sweetest bonds are severed ! 

Confidence, alas ! lies low ! 
What sad hap may now befall me ; 

Who shall tell me, who shall know ? 
I must turn away to wander. 

Like a widow full of care. 
Onward still, and ever banished. 

Onward still, and resting ne'er. 

To the soil be not thou fettered ; 

Boldly dare, and bravely roam ; 
Head and arm of willing power 

Ev'rywhere shall find a home. 
Wheresoe'er the sunbeam glitters, 

Hath it power thy care to chase; 
Therefore is the world so roomy, 

That we spread o'er all its face. 

(|lalnr tmb Penst^.) 

G. A. EiNKEL. 

Grim murderers had taken the traveller's life away ; — 
Deep in the dreary pinewood, by the bubbling spring, he lay. 

When it came — ^the hour of midnight— a stirring might you 

Where airy sprites, like fire-flies, were flitting through ev'r^ 


Like glow-worm and gleaming beetle the spirits of air are 

And Will-o'-the-Wisp, the goblin, goes flickering with antic 


And from the little molehills, all numberless dart forth 
The merry throng of elfins, the spirits of silent earth. 

And last, from the sparkling water, with hair like the wave, 

so blue. 
In frolicsome, mirthful bevy. Undine and nymph came too. 

They went to the fair dead one, — ^they told him their de^re: 
"Wilt go with us to the water? — ^wilt go to the air — ^the 

But when they saw his features, where weary and wan he lay, 
How wildly fled on the instant the spirit-realm away ! 

The rapid sylph flew onward, and cared for him no more. 
But fluttered with waving pinions each beauteous flow'ret 

And brighter blazed each goblin that danced in the flickering 

To the glow-worm lent the beetle the sheen of his glancing 



And merrily 'gan the nymphs then their graceful rings to 

And, smiling, danced round the dead one, — ^what cause had 

they to grieve ? 

The water-nymphs continued in the moonlit waves to play ; 
For free trom love and hatred is the spirit-soul for aye. 

But lo ! the dawn of morning in the east is blooming bright, 
And the weary spirits hide them in the depths of darksome 

Still lies the corpse a-bleeding, while the morning beam 

doth trace 
The ruddy hue of the living on the dead man's ashen face. 

There came a youthful huntsman, roaming the woodland 

round ; 
He sang of the hunter's pleasure, — ^his horn gave bUthest 


And when he saw the dead man — ^the dead man's foe was 

Then knelt he down beside him, then wept he bitterly. 

From off the dead man's bosom he washed the blood-red 

stains ; 
But Uttle might he help him, for all his care and pains. 

2jS thk book or asnuAs BOS'oa. 

This eve is closed for ever, — this heart it beateth ne'er, — 
TiiGn grasps he, softly praying, his sturdy hunting tpear. 

He digs a grave, and gently the dead man lays therein. 
And plants a cross upon it, and scatters floweis between. 

lie winds for him the death-song, on his horn witb muffled 

And onward strides through the woodland, tha finest^i 

t^thful son 

Samb anb Poral §ianp. 

Although, strictly speaking, songs of this class would 
scarcely be expected to form a portion of a work like 
the present one, yet it is impossible to give a complete 
sketch of German Song Literature while this important 
branch is unrepresented. The finest productions of the 
sixteenth century are in the department of religious song. 
Luther and his followers, Paul Fleming and a number of 
-writers of the sixteenth century, inculcated religious truths 
by means of hymns, which to the present day have never 
ceased to be popular. The earliest of these hymns contain 
simply a confession of faith. Among the sacred songs of the 
seventeenth century are to be found many excellent metrical 
Tersions of the Psalms. The hymns of Gtellert have achieved 
a jH)pularity which will appear somewhat remarisable to the 
student who compares the writings of this poet with the more 
healthy and vigorous efiusions of his predecessors. 



(«in' ftstt J^nrj.) 
Uahttn Lctheb. 
Our God, a tower of strength is He, 

A good defence and weapon ; 

From every care He helps us free, 

That unVo \Ki doth hai^pen. 


The old evil foe 
With rage now doth glow ; 
Much cunning, great power, - 
His fearful armour are — 
On earth there is none like hinu 

With our own might is nothing done,— 

We soon are lost and fallen ; 
There fights for us the Righteous Man, 
Whom God Himself hath callen. 
Dost ask who He is ? 
Christ Jesus, I wis ; 
The Lord Sabaoth,T- 
There is no other God,— 
And He must be triumphant. 

Though the world full of devils were. 

All ready to devour us. 
Still have we not such grievous fear, — 
The victory is for us. 

The prince of this earth 
May scowl in his wrath ; 
But powerless must be, 
For judged is he ; — 
A word can overcome him. 

His written Word shall they let stand. 

And little thanks inherit ; 
He fighteth for us in the land 

With his good gifts and Bpmt, 


And, take they the life. 
Goods, &me, child, and wife^ 
Let all pass away, — 
Small profit have they,— > 
The kingdom yet awaits us. 


^ejtJIN' feste Burg ist unser Gott, 
W Ein' gute Wehr und Waffen. 
£r hilfib uns frei aus aller Noth, 
Die uns jetzt hat betroffen. 
Der alt' bose Feind, 
Mit Ernst er's jetzt meint. 
Gross Macht und viel List 
Sein grausam Biistung ist. 
Auf Erd ist nicht seins Gleichen. 

Mit unser Macht ist Nichts gethan, 

Wir sind gar bald verloren. 
Es streit fiir uns der rechte Mann, 
Den Gott hat selbst erkoren. 
Fragst du, wer der ist ? 
Er heisst Jesus Christ, 
Der Herr Zebaoth, 
Und ist kein ander Gott, 
Das Feld muss er behalten. 

Und wenn die Welt vol! Teufel war, 
\3xvd 'VoW.V. \rns> ^^x ^«t^\\\ix!L^en, 


So furchten wir uns nicht so sehr, 
Es soil uns doch gelingen. 

Der Fiirst dieser Welt, 

Wie saur er sich stellt, 

Thut er uns doch nicht, 

Das macht, er ist gericht, 
Ein Wortlein kann ihn fallen. 

Das Wort sie soUen lassen stahn, 

XJnd keinen Dank dazu haben. 
Er ist bei uns wohl auf dem Plan 
Mit seinem Geist und Gaben, 
Nehmen sie den Leib, 
Lass fahren dahin, 
Sie habens kein Gewinn ; 
Das Reich muss uns doch bleiben. 

Under the title of ''Luther's Hymn'* this sacred soog is already well 
known among us ; and deservedly ho, for it is redolent throughont of the 
burning zeal and undaunted intrepidity of the great Reformer. During the 
period between tbe years 1523-43, Luther wrote a number of religious songs 
for the use of the Reformed Church. Some of these songs were paraphrases of 
Psalms (the one given above is founded on the 46th) ; others were taken £rom 
earlier Latin or German hymns ; and, interspersed among these, we find various 
original productions. The hymns of Luther formed a noble model for German 
religious song. They have deservedly kept their place to the present day in 
the hearts of tbe people, and are to be found, in forms more or less modified, 
in every Protestant collection of German hymns. GodQcke, in noticing these 
remarkable productions of Luther's pen, recommends the versions in Wacker- 
nagePs " Deutsche Eirchenlieder," pp. 129-151, as the most correct. In the 
German original version, given above, the orthography has been modernised. 
T^e first two lines of the concluding verse, for instance, would be, according to 
the old spelling : — 

** Das wort sie sdllen lassen stan, 
Ynd kein danck daza haben," &a« 


IIabiih Lutbik. 
I^OM fceaTen high I wing my fl^bt. 
To bring new tidings of glad delight ; 


Ot tidings good SO much I bring, 
Thereof I'll speak, and thereoi FlI sing. 

For unto you a Child, this mom, 
Is of a chosen virgin bom; 
A Child so blest, and fair to see, 
He shall your joy and your comfort be. 

For He is Jesus Christ, our King, 
Who succour to us all shall bring ; 
To be our Saviour doth He deign. 
Of all our sin to cleanse the stain. 

Salvation 'mongyou will He share, 
Which God the Father did prepare, 
That in the heavenly kingdom ye 
Might dwell both now and etemally. 

Then mark ye well the sign He chose. 
The crib and lowly swaddling clothes; 
There shall ye find the Infant lain 
That earth and all things doth sustain. 

Let us rejoice, then, every one, 
And with the shepherds wander on. 
To see what gift the God of heaven 
To us, e'en his dear Son, hath given. 

Awake ! my heart, and lift thine eyes I 
Behold what in yon manger lies ! 
What is this beauteous Babe so mild? 
It is the lovely Jesus child. 

Thou that all things didst create. 
How hast Thou ta'en such lowly state. 
That there Thou liest on withered graam. 
Whereof have eaten ox and aas. 

And, though the world were twiae as great, 
OF jewels and of gold create, 
Too poor and worthless were it all^ 
To be for Thee a cradle small. 

Thy costly silks and velrets gay 
Are swaddling clothes and poorest bi^. 
Whereon rich king Thou dost ^pear 
As though thy heavenly kingdom 'twere. 

Thus hath it seemed good to Thee 

That Thou this truth mighte't teach to me. 

That worldly honour, wealth, and gain 


That evermore I may rejoice. 
And leap, and loudly tune my voice, 
The true Hosanna hymn to raise 
In sweetest notes of hea^felt praise. 

Glory to God on highest throne, 
Who sent to us his only Son ; 
Therefore rejoice, ye angel throng, 
Of this new year to sing the song. 


fOM Himmel hoch da komm ich her, 
Ich bring euch gute neue Mahr. 
Der guten Mahr bring ich so viel 
Davon ich singen und sagen wilL 

Euch ist ein Kindlein heut gebom 
Von einer Jungfrau auserkom, 
Ein Kindelein so zart und fein 
Das soil eu'r Frend und Wonne seyn. 

Es ist der Herr Christ unser Gott, 
Der will uns fiihr'n aus aller Noth\ 
Er will uns Heiland selber sein. 
Yon alien Siinden machen rein. 

Er bringt euch alle Seligkeit 
Die Gott der Vater hat bereit, 
Dass ihr mit uns im Himmelreich, 
Sollt leben nu und ewigleich. 


So meiket nu das Zeichen recbt, 
Die Erippen, Windelein so sdilecht. 
Da findet ihr das Kind gelegt, 
Das alle Welt erhalt und tragt 

Des laszt uns alle firohlich sein, 
Und mit den Hirten gehn hinein, 
Zu sehn was Gott uns hat bescheert, 
Mit seinem lieben Sohn yerehrt 

Merk auf, mein Herz, und sich dort hin. 
Was liegt doch in dem Krippelin ? 
Wes ist das schone Eindelin ? 
Es ist das liebe Jesulin. 

Sis willekomm, du edler Grast ! 
Der Sunder nicht verschmahet hast, 
Und kommst ins Elend her zu mir : 
Wie soil ich immer danken dir ? 

Ach Herr, du Schopfer aller Ding, 
Wie bist du worden so gering, 
Dass du da liegst aut diirrem Graa, 
Davon ein Bind und Esel asz ? 

Und war die Welt vielmal so weit, 
Von Edelstein und Gold bereit : 
So war sie doch dir viel zu klein, 
Zu sein ein enges Wiegelein. 


Der Sommet und die Seiden dein 
Das ist grob Heu und Windelein. 
Darauf du, Konig, so gross und reich, 
Hersprangsty als war's dein Himmelreich. 

Das hat also gefallen dir, 

Die Wahrheit anzugeigen mir, 

Wie aller Welt Macht, Ehre und Gut, 

Fiir dir nichts gilt, nichts hilft noch thut. 

Ach mein herzliebes Jesulin, 
Mach dir ein rein sanft Bettelin, 
Zu ruhen in meins Herzen Schrein, 
Dass ich nimmer vergesse dein ; 

Davon ich allzeit frohlich sei, 
Zu springen, singen immer frei 
Das rechte Husaninne schon, 
Mit Herzenlust den siissen Ton. 

Lob, Ehr sey Gott im hochsten Thron, 
Der uns schickt seinem eignen Sohn ! 
Des freuen sich der Engel Schaar, 
Und sbgen uns solchs neues Jalin 



When the akj is black and louring, 
When thy path in life is drear, 

Upward lift thy steadfast glances, 
'Mid the maze of sorrow here. 

From the beaming Fount of gladness 
Shall descend a radiance bright ; 

And the grave shall be a garden, 
And the hours of darkness light. 

For the Lord will hear and answer, 

When in faith his people pray ; 
Whatsoe'er He hath appointed 

Shall but work thee good alway. 
E'en thy very hairs are numbered, — 

God commands when one shall fall ; 
And the Lord is with his people, 

Helping each and blesdng all. 




Happy the dead ! they peacefully rest them, 
From burdens that galled, from cares that opprest them, 
From yoke of the world, and from tyranny, — 
The grave, the grave, can alone set free, 
The grave can alone set free. 

Over the earth sorrow ever is reigtung. 

In its bosom alone is no voice of complaining^. 


death-night, thou beddest us peacefully. 
Iq the grave alone all lie equally, 
In the grave all lie equally. 

Once more to see from whom we have parted. 
Once more to press to our hearts the true-hearted^ 
Ever to dwell in sweet unity. 
The grave, the grave, then shall joyful be. 
The grave then shall joyful be* 

Land of promise, thatlead'st the wearied 
From howling tempests to peace unvaried.—- 
When joy hath perish'd, and hope is past. 
The grave, the grave, holds the anchor fast. 
The grave holds the anchor &8t. 

Death's dark portal with garlands wreathe ye ; 
O'er the grave songs of gladness breathe ye; 
Steer toward the haven trustfully ; 
The grave shall a gat^ of triumph be, 
Shall a gate of triumph be. 


ELIG die Todten ! sie ruhen und rasten, 
Von driickenden Sorgen, von qualenden Lasten, 
Vom Joche der Welt und der Tyrannei ; 
Das Grab, das Grab macht allein nur frei, 

Das Grab macht allem nur frei. 


Ueber der Erde da walten die Sorgen ; 
Im Schoose der Mutter ist jeder geborgen. 
Nacht des Todea ! du bettest weich ; 
Das Grab, das Grc^ macht allein nur gleich, 
Das Grab macht allein nur gleich. 

Wieder sich finden und wieder umarmen, 
Und wieder am Herzen Geliebter erwarmen, 
Und ewig zu leben im siissen Verein! 
Das Grab, das Grab wird una all' erfreun, 
Das Grab wird uns all' erfreun. 

Land der Verheissung, du fiihrest die Miiden 
Nach brasenden Stiirmen zu seligen Frieden. 
Wenn Freude verschwindet, wenn Hofinung verlasst, 
Das Grab, das Grab halt den Anker fest, 
Das Gtab halt den Anker fest 

Kranzet die Thore des Todes mit Zweigen, 
Und tanzt um die Graber in frohlichen Beigea, 
Und steuert muthig zum Hafen hmein ; 
Das Grab, das Grab soil Triumphthor seyn, 
Das Grab soil Triumphthor seyn. 



G. Nbumabk (1657). 

To let (jod rule who's but contented, 
And humbly in Him hopeth still, 

Shall marvellously be prevented 
In ev'ry sorrow, ev'ry ill. 

Who leaneth on God's mighty hand, 

He hath not built his house on sand. 

For what is all our heavy yearning, 
And wherefore make we such ado ? 

What prospers it that ev'ry morning 
We o'er our sorrow wail anew ? 

Whereunto works our clamour vain 

But to increase our grief and pain ? 

Then must we for a time content us, 
And for a little while be still ; 

Await what through Gkxi's grace is sent us, 
What worketh his omniscient will. 

God, who our helper deigns to be. 

Well knoweth our necessity. 

He knows with true joys to surround us, 
And what we want He knoweth too ; 

If only faithful He hath found us. 
Free from hypocrisy, and true, 

God, ere we deem He can be near, 

With many blessings will appear. 


Then think not, in thy depth of sadness. 
The Lord hath turned away his face, 

Nor deem a life of constant gladness 
Must be the token of his grace ; 

The future time may change the whole — 

Unto each man is set his goal. 

These are, for God, light things, and brittle — 
To Him that sits in highest state — 

To make the rich man poor and little. 
To make the poor man rich and great : — 

He is the wondrous God alone. 

That setteth up and casteth down. 

Sing, pray, and to God's precepts lend thee ; 

Still faithfully thy duty do; 
Trust the rich blessing He will send thee, — 

It shall come down to thee anew : — 
When one his stronghold God doth make, 
God never will that man forsake. 


Off^ER nur den lieben Gott lasst walten, 
vi%L^ Und hofiFet auf Ihn allezeit, 
Der wird ihn wundersam erhalten. 
In aller Noth und Traurigkeit. 
Wer Gott dem Allerhochsten traut, 
Der hat auf keinen Sand gebaut. 


Was helfen uns die schweren Sofgen f 
Was hilft uns unser Weh und Ach? 

Was hilffc es dass wir alle Moigen 
Beseufbzen unser Ungemach? 

Wir machen unser Ereutz und Laid 

Nur grosser durch die Traurig^eit. 

Man halte nur ein Wenig stille, 

Und sey doch in sich selbst veigniigty 

Wie uns'res Gottes Gnadenwille, 
Wie sein' Allwissenheit es fugt, 

Gott, der uns Ihm hat auserwehit, 

Der weiss auch sehr gut, was uns fehlt. 

Er kennt die rechten Freudenstunden, 
Er weiss wohl wenn es niitzlich sey, 

Wenn er uns nur hat treu erfunden 
Und merket keine Heuchelei — 

So kommt Gott eh wir's uns versehn 

Und lasset uns viel Guts geschehn. 

Denk nicht, in deiner Drangsalshitze 
Dass du Yon Gott verlassen seyst, 

Und dass Gott der im Schoose sitze 
Der sich mit stetem Gliicke speist^ 

Die Folgezeit verandert viel, 

Und setzet Jeglichem sein Ziel. 

Es sind ja Gott recht schlechte Sachen, 
Und ist dem Hochsten alles gleic\ 


Den Reichen klein und arm zu machen, 

Den Arraen aber gross und reich. 
Gott ist der rechte Wundermann 
Der bald erhoh'n, bald sturzen kann. 

Sing, bet' und geh' auf Gottes Wegen, 

Verricht das deine nur getreu, 
Und trau des Himmels reichem Segen, 

So wird er bei dir werden neu. 
Denn, welcher seine Zuversicht 
Auf Gott setzt, den verlasst er nicht 



Allah gives light in the darkness, 
Allah gives comfort in woe ; 

Cheeks that are whitened with sorrow 
Allah maketh to glow. 

Blossom and flower are fading, 
Tears are fleeting and brief; 

But, ah ! my heart yet remaineth 
Beating so heavy with grief. 

Forth to the dwelling of Allah 

Gladly, gladly I'll flee. 
Yonder the gloom shall have vanished. 

Yonder I clearly shall see ! 



Qi LLAH giht Licht in Nachten^ 
^ Allah gibt Trost in Noth, 
Und bleich geharmte Wangen 
Farbt Allah wieder roth. 

Blumen und Bliithen welken, 
. Jahre verschwinden im Flug, 
Doch ach ! mein Herz wird bleiben, 
Das hier voll Schwermuth schlug 

Frohlich zu Allah's Wohnung, 
Werd' ich hiniiber gehn, 

Dort wird die Nacht verschwinden, 
Dort wird mein Auge sehn ! 


(Jit Ipoffimrrg.) 


All men to speak and to dream are prone 

Of better days before them ; 
We see them pressing and striving on 

To the happier goal that's o'er them ;-^ 
The world's renewed as the world decays, 
But man hopes ever for better days, 

Hope leads man into this earth below — 
BiOUiid tVve inett^ \ia^ %^^ it hover ; 


It lightens his youth with its magic glow, 

Nor quits him when life is over ; — 
When, aged and weary, his course must cease, 
With "Hope" on his tombstone he slumbers in peace. 

It is not a fiction empty and vain, 

From a fool's dull brain descended ; 
A voice in our heart cries once and again, 

" For better things we're intended !" — 
And the hopes those inward sounds impart 
Shall never deceive the trusting heart 


(||[kl^t bias far \ntH tSnieriDtli) 


Not only for tMs nether world 

Were wreaths of friendship bound; 

When the great scroll shall be unfurled * 
Its worth shall sure be found. 

Where joy's bright fountain-head runs o'er, 
Where nought a tear can move, 

'Where bursting hearts at length may soar 
To endless life and love — 

The mighty value of that love, 

Difl[used our race among. 
In fnendship's fatherland above 

Shall swell the angels' song. 



E'en here congenial spirits still 
Entwine in friendship fond ; 

But purer love our hearts shall fill 
In brighter realms beyond. 

How soon our dying hour draws near ! 

How soon our knell must toll ! 
Inexorably swift 'tis here, 

And doubts afi&ight the souL 

When once my dying hour aj^iears^ 

To sever me from thee ; 
When thine eye shall be filled with tears, 

And mine shall darkened be ; — 

My parting glance, my dying breath, 
Shall Heaven for thee implore, 

And, blessed thought! that after death 
We meet to part no more ! 

Oh Hope, tiiat binds the broken heart, 

Descend on us, we pray, 
And wipe, when cherished friends depart^ 

Our bitter tears away« 





Why pause now the minstrels who erst sang so proudly ? 

Our bold, merry smgers, why hold they their peace ? 
Kow say, has a hammer-stroke fallen so loudly, 

To bid all our revelry suddenly cease ? 

Chorus. Now say, has a hanimer-stroke, &c. ? 

Yes, truly, the mightiest hammer is wielded 
By one who can use it with terrible sway ; — 

One blow — and the glad-hearted singer has yielded 
His spirit to. darkness and silence away. 

Chorus. One blow — and the glad-hearted, &c, 

£ad tears, youth, and prayers his compassion move never, 
Nor song of blithe heart that so merrily rings ; 

Hoar age and gay youth are both silenced for ever, 
Aloft for a blow when his hammer he swings. 
Chorus. Hoar age and gay youth, &c. 

Then hasten, my brethren, — now raise we our glasses, — 
Now sing we a song full of gladness, I say ; — 

For he who enjoyeth his life as it passes. 

The guerdon of wisdom hath carried away. 
Chorus. For he who enjoyeth, &c. 

Not perfect, by far, is tiiis earth, where we're dwelling ; 
I^at joys without number shine out 'mid \t& ^i^e&* 

We follow in hope, not in dread or aflright : 
He leads us to life through the gloomiest portal, — 
To heavenly day through the darkness of night. 
Chona. He leads us to life, &c 

Oh, happy tlie s^nrits initiate who wander, 

The bright throne surrounding, where all is unfurl 
Oh, recompense mighty we hope to gun yonder — 
To gaze on the Master who fashioned the world I 
Chorus. Oh, recompense mighty we hope to gwn yoi 
To gaze on the Master who fashioned the woi 


P. BtrouHT. 
I WBITE to knock at Riches' door; 
They threw me a farthing the threshold o^er. 

To the door of Love did I dien repair,— 


To the house of Content I sought the way, — 
But none could tell me where it lay. 

One quiet house I yet could name, 


Where, last of all, I'll admittance claim ; 

Many the guests that have knocked before, 
But still — ^in the grave — there's roomtfor more. 




There sang full many a poet. 

In our beautiful German land, 
Whose songs now no longer echo ; — 

The singers rest in the sand. 

But still, while around our planet 

The stars through the heavens shall range, 
Shall hearts sing, in changing measure, 

Of the beauty that knows no change. 

P the woodland yonder lies ruined 

The home of the heroes hoar ; 
But yearly, from hall and portal, 

The spring breaks forth as before. 

Wherever the weary warriors 

Sink down in the maddening rout, 

New races are forward springing. 
And fighting it honestly out. 




Peaceful from the hill the chapel 

Looketh on the vale below ; 
Singing clear by stream and meadow^ 

Doth the joyous herdboy go. 

Hark !— the little bell's sad tolling ! 

Hark ! — ^the death-hymn's awful thrill 
And the boy's glad voice is silent, 

And he listens, grave and still. 

Yonder to the grave are carried 
Who within the vale were gay ; 

Careless herdboy — careless herdboy I 
Thus they'll sing for thee one day I 


ROBEN stehet die Kapelle, 
Schauet still in's Thai hinab, 
Drunten singt bei Wies' und Quelle, 
Froh und hell der Hirtenknab'. 

Traurig tout das Glocklein nieder, 
Schauerlich der Leichenchor ; 

Stille sind die frohen Lieder, 
\3ud Aet TLxi^^ \axjacJafc em^or. 


Droben bringt man sie zu Grabe, 

Die sich freuten in dem Thai ; 
Hirtenknabe ! Hirtenknabe ! 

Dir auch singt man dort einmal. 


From a hymn-book printed at Cologne in 1625. 

Eternity, eternity, 
How long art thou, eternity ! 
Yet hasteth on toward diee our life, 
E'en as the war-steed to the strife. 
The messenger toward home, doth go, 
Or ship to shore, or bolt from bow. 

Eternity, eternity, 

How long art thou, eternity ! 
As in a globe, so smooth and round. 
Beginning ne'er and end are found, 
Eternity, not more can we 
Beginning find, or end, in thee. 

Eternity, eternity. 

How long art thou, eternity I 
Thou art a ring of awful mould, 
Jbr ever is thy centre called, 


And never thy circumrrence wide. 
For unto thee no end can tide. 

Eternity, eternity, 
How long art thou, eternity! 
And if a little bird bore forth 
One single sand com from the earth, 
And took in thousand years but one, 
Ere thou wert past, the world were gone. 

Eternity, eternity. 
How long art thou, eternity I 
In thee, if every thousandth year 
An eye should drop one litde tear, 
To hold the water thence would grow 
Nor heaven nor earth were wide enow. 

Eternity, eternity, 
How long art thou, eternity I 
The sand and water in the sea 
But portions of thy whole can be ; 
No reck'ning long can e'er suffice 
To give the measure of thy size. 

Eternity, eternity, 
How long art thou, eternity ! 
Hear, man ! So long as God shall reign. 
So long continue hell and pain ; 
So long last heaven and joy also. — 
Oh, lengthened Joy ! oh, lengthened woe ! 




EWIGKErr, o Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkeit I 
Doch eilt zu dir schnell uns're Zeit, 
Gleichwie das Heerpferd zu dem Streit, 
Nach Haus der Bot, das Schiff zum Gestad, 
Der schnelle Pfeil vom Bogen ab. 

Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkeit ! 

Gleichwie an einer Kugel rund, 

Kein Anfang und kein End' ist kund ; 

Also, o, Ewigkeit an dir, 

Noch Ein — noch Ausgang finden wir. 

Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkeit ! 

Du bist ein Ring unendlich weit, 

Dein Mittelpunkt heisst Allezeit, 

Niemals der weite Umkreis dein, 

Weil deiner nie kein End wird seyn. 

Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkeit ! 
Hinnehmen konnt' ein Voglein klein. 
All ganzer Welt Sandkornlein ein : 
Wenn's nur eins nahm' all tausend Jahr, 
Nach dem war nichts yon ihr fiirwahr. 


Gwigkeit, o Emgkedt, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkmt I 
Id dir wenn our all tausend Jahr 
Ein Aug vei^oss ein kleine Thriin, 
Wiird wachsen Wasser solche Meng, 
Dass Erd' UDd Himmel war xa eng. 

Ewigk^t, Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang bist du o Ewigkeit ! 
Der Sand im Meer und Tropfen all. 
Bind nuT eia Bnicli der einen Zahl ; 
All^n schwitzt iiber dir umsonst. 
Die tie&te MeEs-und BechenkunBt. 

Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit, 
Wie lang hist du o Ewigkrat ! 
H3r^ Mensch : So lange Gott wird eeyn 
So lang wird seyn der Hollen Fdn, 
So lang wird geyn des Himmeb Fread, 
lange Freud ; o lauges Lad I 


;ht 4sil»r'« Bttniiin. 




Satibioal commentaries on political events are exceedingly 
common among the Germans, and have been popular from 
the time of Charles Y • downwards. The time of the Thirty 
Tears' War presents many songs of this kind. They are 
[ mosdy lengthy effiisions, setting forth Wallenstein's discom- 
. fiture before Stralsund, the taking of Madgeburg, the battle 
of Liitzen, &c. Of the lampoons on Napoleon, wherewith 
Germany was inundated after the conqueror's discomfiture, 
I two specimens are given. The song of Urian and his voyage 
[ is among the most widely-circulated of its class in Germany, 
^ and has, therefore, been translated here, though much of 
the quaintness of the original is sacrificed in the process. 




A. Chamisso. 

And when the tailors rebelled of late, 

Gouragio ! 
They instituted a massacre great. 
And then began to deliberate. — 
To grant it, sir king, thou must swear, swear, swear I 
Yes, thou must swear. 

And three conditions we'll make with thee : 

Gouragio ! 
For the first the work-dames abolished must be. 
Who shorten the earnings of such as we. — 
To grant this, sir king, thou must swear, swear, swear ! 
Yes, thou must swear. 

And this is the next thing we propose, 

Gouragio ! 
The tailor may smoke in the open street, 
Be the Polizei's anger never so great. — 
To grant this, sir king, thou must swear, swear, swear ! 
Yes, thou must swear. 

What our third request is, we're not aware ; 

Gouragio ! 
But still it's the cream of the whole aflFair ; 
Unto our last gasp to maintain it we dare. — 
To grant it, sir king, thou must swear, swear, swear ! 
Yes, thou uiust swear. 



(JSlYND als die Schneider revoltirt, 
vtV Courage ! 

So haben sie grausam massakrirt, 
Und stolz am Ende parlamentirt : 
Herr Konig, das sollst du uns schwo-ho-horeii, 
Ja schworen. 

Und drei Bedingungen wollen wir stell'n : 

Courage ! 
Schaff ab, zum Ersten, die Schneidermamsellen 
Die das Bred verkiirzen uns Schneidergesellen ; 
Herr Konig, das sollst du uns schwo-ho-horen| 
Ja schworen. 

Die brennende Pfeife zum Andem sei. 

Courage ! 
Zum hochsten Aerger der Polizei 
Auf ofiFerer Strasse uns Schneidem frei ! 
Herr Konig, das sollst du uns schwo-ho-horen, 
Ja schworen. 

Das Dritte, Herr Konig, noch wissen wirs nicht, 

Courage ! 
Doch bleibt es das Best' an der ganzen Geschicht' 
Wir bestehen auch drauf bis zum jiingsten Gericht| 
Herr Konig, das sollst du uns schwo-ho-horen, 
Ja schworen. 



Eleven brides are loved by me,— 
The twelfth is wanting still ; 

Therefore, dear child, I've chosen thee 
The number — twelve — to fill. 

Yet think not I'm of Turkish blood, — 

I am, and will be, a Christian good. 

To one dear bride I gave my hand,— 

Her name is Liberty; 
The second, my Q-erman Fatherland^ 

Soon after married me. 
Count but Nine MuseSy dear, besides ; 
There have you my eleven brides. 

To be the twelfth, an't listeth thee, 
Take thou my hand this day; 

But, hark'ee, child, drive jealousy 
Far from thy heart away, — 

Not e'en the holy marriage vow 

Can make me quit those others now. 




A MAN was troubled in his mind 
For that his pigtail hung behind, 
And needs would have it alter'd. 

Thinks he, " How's this to be begun ? 
m turn me round, and the thing is done ;" 
And — ^his pigtail hangs behind him. 

Then turns he nimbly round in haste, — 
As it stood at first, it stands at last ; — 
His pigtail hangs behind him. 

The other way he turned him round, 
But ne'er a whit of pleasure found; — 
His pigtail hangs behind him. 

To right and left he turned, where he stood, — 
It did no harm, and it wrought no good ; — 
For — ^his pi^[tail hangs behind him. 

Like a top he tumeth o'er and o'er ; 
It avails him nought, as we said before ;— 
His pigtail hangs behind him. 

And see, he turns to the present day, 
And thinks, " At length it must work its way;'*- 
But — ^his pigtail hangs behind him. 



t WAR Einer, dem's zu Herzen ging, 

Dass ihm der Zopf so hinten hing, 
Er wollt' es anders haben. 

So denkt' er denn — " Wie feng ich's an? 
Ich dreh mich um, so ist's gethan, 
Der Zopf, der hangt ihm hinten. 

Und wie es stund, es annoch steht — 
Der Zopfy der hangt ihm hinten. 

Da dreht er sich schnell anders 'rum 
S' wird aber noch nicht besser drum, — 
Der Zopf, der hangt ihm hinten. 

Er dreht sich links, er dreht sich rechts, 
Es thut nichts Gut's, es thut nichts Schlecht's,- 
Der Zopf der hangt ihm hinten. 

Er dreht sich wie ein Kreisel fort, 
Es hilfts zu nichts, in einen Wort — 

Der Zopf, der hangt ihm hinten. 

Und seht, er dreht sich immer noch, 
Und denkt — es hilft am Ende doch — 

Der Zopf, der hangt ihm hinten. 



A BEER-BOTTLE the world resembles ; 

We men and women are the beer. 
This saying has a good foundation ; 

And just to prove it I am here. 
The^o^A, of course, means high-bom people ; 

The beer itself, the burgher stout ; 
The dregs, that ne'er can rise to match it, 

The much-enduring peasant lout. 

Now, when the cork is first extracted, 

The froth appears at once displayed ; 
The other parts are scarcely heeded, — 

From froth our estimates are made. 
But strength lies in the beer below it, 

The froth is empty, void, and vain, 
And, high as Master Froth has risen, 

So deeply shall he fall again. 

The dregs are wholly disregarded,— 

We know ingratitude is dumb ; 
And yet 'tis but through Dregs' exertion 

Sir Froth so mighty has become. 
Now, hear the end of this my ditty ; 

Death makes an expected call, 
And never waits to ask permission, 

But clears out frx)th, and dregs, and alU 

(^u ^nssUcn bat |l!BiniiIntr{[.) 
The Hussites invested Naumburg, 
By way of Jena and Eamburg. 
On the " Vogelwies," fer and near, 
Kought was seen but sword and spear, 
Kear one hundred thousand. 


And when nought it seemed could save them, 
One good scheme some hope still gave them ; 
For a pedagogue set his wit 
To find a stratagem, and hit 
On his little scholars. 

** Children," said he, " you are young, sure ; 
None of you has done any wrong, sure, 
I will lead you to Prokop. 
He won't be so bad, I hope, 
That he should destroy you* 

Old Prokop this mightily please did; 
He on cherries the youngsters feasted ; 
Then he drew his sword from its case, 
And commanded, /^ Eight about face. 
Backward march from Naumburg.'' 

In this miracle's honour the people 
Ev'ry year a holiday keep all. 
Surely the cherry-feast you know, 
Where with our cask to the tents we go,— 
Victory and freedom ! 

Thia b an old song founded on an historical event. Frocopin^ haying 
invested Nanmbnrg^ was propitiated in the manner described in the text. 



Matthias Claudius. 

The man who on a voyage goes 

Some wonders can miravel ; 
So with my hat and stick I chose 
To go at once and travel. 
Chor. Now that was not stupidly done, we say,— 
Go on with your story, friend Urian, pray. 

First to the North Pole did we steer; — 

My stars, but it was freezing ; 
Which made me think " At home, 'tis clear, 

The weather's much more pleasing.*' 
Ckor, Now that was not, &c. 

The Greenlanders right glad I found 
To see me in their land, sirs ; — 

They passed a jug of train-oil round— 
I thought I'd let it stand, sirs. 
Ohor. Now that was not, &a 

The Esquimaux — ^great savage race — . 

No good thing e'er are fleet in ;^ 
I called one " lubber" to his face, 

And got an awful beating. 

Chor. Now that was not, &c. 


Now in America was I, — 

And said " Friend TJrian to it — 
The North-west passage must be nigh ; 

Suppose you scamper through it I" 
Chor. Now that was not, &c. 

I put to sea ; — ^my telescope 

Fast with a cord I bound it ; 
I sought my way with trustful hope — 

But yet I haven't found it. 
Ohor. Now that was not, &c. 

To Mexico I next was bound — 

Further than Bremen — rather ; . 
** There gold," I thought, " lies strown around. — 

I must a sackful gather." 

Chor. Now that was not, &c 

But oh ! but oh ! but oh ! but oh ! 

How could such stories blind me ? 
I found but sand and stones, I trow, 

And left my sack behind me. 
Chor. Now that was not, &c 

Some cold provisions next I bought— 
Eael, sprats, plum-cake, and so on ; 

And hired a post-chaise, for I thought 
To Asia next I'd go on. 

Chor. Now that was not, &c« 


The great Mogul's a mighty many— 
His kmdness is distracting ;— 

I found his slaves, in grand divan, 
EQs highnesses tooth extracting. 
Chor. Now that was not, &c 

Thinks I, " Your tooth aches, sir, I see ; 

Now, by all wealth and pleasure. 
What use is it Mogul to bo ? — 

Why, Jean have that pleasure.'* 
Chor. Now that was not, &c 

I told the host my fixed intent 
Was soon to pay him all, sirs ; 

And oflF upon a journey went 
To China and Bengal, sirs. 
Chor. Now that was not, &c. 

Then went I (Hiward to Japan, 

To Afric' and Tahiti, 
And on my way met many a man. 

And looked at many a city. 
Chor. Now that was not, &c. 

And on my travels ev'rywhere. 

Loose still I found a screw, sirs ; 
The folks were like the people here. 
And just such fools as you, sirs. 
Chor. Now that was stupidly done, we say, — 

Just leave ofiF your story, friend Urian, pray. 



ENN Jemand eine Keise thut, 
So kann er was erzahlen, 
Drum nahm ich meinen Stock und Hut, 
Und that das Reisen wahlen. 
Chor. Da hat er gar nicht ubel dran gethan, 
Verzahl er doch weiter, Herr Urian. 

Zuerst ging's an den Nordpl hin, 

Da war es kalt, bei Ehre ; 
Da daeht ich denn, in meinem Sinn 

Dass es hier besser ware. 

Ohor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &c. 

In Gronland freuten sie sich sehr, 

Mich ihres Orts zu sehen ; 
Und setzten mir den Thrankrug her, 

Ich liess ihn aber stehen. 
. Chor* Da hat er gar nicht iibel, ke. 

Die Eskimos sind wild und gross, 

Zu allem Guten trage ; 
Da schalt ich Einen einen Klotz, 

Und kriegte viele Schlage. 

Chor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &;c. 

Nun war ich in Amerika, 

Da sagt' ich zu mir : " Lieber, 
Nordwestpassage ist noch da, 

Mach' dich eirimal dariiber." 

Chor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &^i. 


Flugs ich an Bord, und aus in's Meer, 

Den Tubus fest gebunden ; 
Und suchte sie die Kreuz und Quer, 

Und hab' sie nicht gefunden. 

Chor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &C 

Von hier ging ich nach Mexico ; 

1st weiter als nach Bremen — 
" Da," daxjht' ich, " liegt das Gold wie Stroh, 

Du sollst' nen Sack voll nehmen." 
Ohor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &c 

Allein — allein — allein — allein — 
Wie kann ein Mensch sich triigen ! 

Ich fand da nichts als Sand und Stein, 
Und liess den Sack da liegen. 

Chor, Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &c. 

Drauf kauft ich etwas kalte Kost, 
Und Kieler Sprott' und Kuchen, 

Und setzte mich auf Extrapost, 
Land Asia zu besuchen. 

Chor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &c. 

Der Mogul ist ein grosser Mann, 

Und gnadig iiber Maszen — 
Und klug — er war itzt eben dran 

'Nen Zahn ausziehn zu lessen. 

Chor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, &c. 

** Ha" — dacht' ich — " der hat Zahne-pein-^ 
Bei aller Gross' und Gabon — 


Was Mlft denn auch noch Mogul seyn — 
Die kanD man so wohl baben." — 
GhoT, Da hat er gar aicht iibel, &c. 

Ich gab dem Wirth mein Ehrenwort 
Ihn nachstens zu bezahlen ; 

Und damit reist' ich weiter fort, 
Nach China und Bengalen. 

Ohor. Da hat er gar nicht iibel, kc. 

Nach Java und nach Otabeit* 

Uivd Afiika nicht minder ; 
Und sab, bei der Gelegenheit, 

Viel Stadt' und Menschenkinder. 
Ohor. Da bat er gar nicht ttbel, && 

Und fand es iiberall wie bier, 
Fand iiberall 'nen Sparren, 

Die Menschen g'rade so wie wir 
Und eben solche Narren. 
Ohor. Da bat er iibel, tibel dran getban, 

Yerzabl er nicht weiter, Herr Urian. 



In January we find the men 

With us on the ice will go ; 
They make what is black appear quite white — 

Thus their words are like the snow. 
In February they wear a mask ; 

Till March they keep it on : 
Until such time as the frosty rime 

From off their hearts is gone. 

A month skips by, and they lead us in 

Politely to April tide ; 
And, when at length bright May appears, 

They lead us home as bride. 
And now our honeymoon is past, 

As June comes round again. 
Then truly I wot the days wax hot, 

And it thunders now and then. 

July brings us frequent thunderstorms — 

The dog-days we must bear ; 
In August 'tis worse, for lightning oft 

May strike us unaware. 
September cools our heated heauis — 

The days wax shorter, too ; 
The husband leaves home abrbad to roam, 

Nor cares what his wife may do. 


October carries off our joys 

In mists of murky gray, 
And sweetest memories fall apace, 

Like withered leaves, away. 
November bringeth a voice that calls, 

And short are the hours of light ; 
When comes with his cold December old. 

Our love is frozen quite. 

90 X 9 X 99. 

Oh once it was the tailors 

Would for their courage shine ; 
Then drank there of them ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety 
Out of a thimble, wine. 

When they assembled, the tailors. 

They sat in council round ; 
And room enough for ninety 
Times nine thnes nine-and-ninety 
On a playing card was found. 

When they came home, the tailors, 
Admittance they could not win ; 
Then crept there of them ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety 
At a narrow keyhole in. 


They went to the inn, the tailors^ 

And held a grand carouse, 
And there at table ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety 
Dined off a roasted mouse. 

They had no conveyance, the tailors. 
To carry them through the land ; 
They mounted and rode, the ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety, 
Upon a hazel wand. 

When they got home, the tailors, 

At table they did recline ; 
They sat and drank the ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety 
From one half-pint of wine. 

When the wine took effect on the tailors, 

No man saw where they slept, 
For each and all of the ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety 
In a pair of snuffers crept. 

When they'd done sleeping, the tailors. 

They knew not how to get out ; 
So mine host he took the ninety 
Times nine times nine-and-ninety. 
And threw them at window out. 


And when they fell, the tailors, 

They tumbled down and down ; 
And grievously the ninety 
^imes nine times nine-and-ninety 

In a waterbutt did drown. 

There is an older, untranslatable song^ of which this ecoentrio productioD 
eems a modernised version. The original mns thns :— 

DiB Schneider gaben ein Qastgebot 

Und waren alle firoh, 
Da'aszen ihrer neone 
Ja nennmal nennzig neone 

Einen halben gebratenen F * * h. 

Und als sie nnn gegessen 

Da hatten sie gnten Muth ; 
Da tranken ihrer nenne, 
Ja neonmal nennzig nenne, 

Aus einem Fingerhnt. 

Und als ede nnn getronken, 

Da bekamen sie anch Hita^ 
Da tanzten ihrer nenne 
Ja nennmal nennzig nenne 

Ani einer Nadelc^itz. 

Und als sie nnn getanzet 

Da waren sie Toiler Schla^ 
Da schliefen ihrer nenne 
Ja nennmal nennzig nenne 

Anf einem Halmen Stroh* 

Und als sie nnn so schliefen 

Da raschelt eine Mans^ 
Da sprangen ihrer nenne, 
Ja nennmal nennzig nenne, 

Znm Sohliissellooh hinans. 



(§tx j^a^iDinUtr ITanbstnrm.) 

Now go slowly before, now go slowly before, 
That the Krahwinkel guardsmen may march to the war 
If the enemy's people our strength did but know 
They'd have run to the world's end a long time ago. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

Now we're marching straight onward to Paris town ; 
They say there that smoking has not been put down. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

There seems to be no end of the marching to-day; 
Our lieutenant can't make out the chart of the way. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

Hasn't nobody seen the ensign with the flag ; 
One can't tell at all how the wind doth wag. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

Don't you use up your drum, little drummer, d'ye 

For lately good calf-skins have grown rather dear. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

Please, captain, my rear man keeps trotting on so^ 
He'll march all the skin ofl* my heels, I know. 
Now go slowly, &c. 


Friend Barthel, your spirit-flask to nie pass o'er ; 
It's very thirsty work this — agoing to the war. 
Now go slowly, &C. 

In France, good heavens, however shall we fare ? 
They say not a soul knoweth German there. 
Now go slowly, &C. 

Now fly, now fly, now all of you fly !— 
For yonder a French sentry-box I spy. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

Those Frenchmen have a habit of firing in the air ; 
And if people are standing there, wliat do they care ? 
Now go slowly, &c. 

At the battle of Leipzic — ^that glorious day — 
We'd almost made a prisoner — ^but he got away. 
Now go slowly, &C. 

And then, when a shell on the bridge did burst. 
My stars, how we all put our best leg first. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

K a poor lad's hit by a brute of a ball, 
Having served the campaign is of no use at all. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

A Bavarian dumpling's the best ball for me, 
For it's not quite so likely to go ofi, you see. 
Now go slowly, &c. 

* ^ * 


Then, peasants, cook dumplings and millet broth ; 
Our guardsmen are good at attacking them both. 
March on stoutly before, march on stoutly before, 
That we on the dumplings may bravely make war. 
Now go slowly, &c. 


Listen, people ! keep you still ; 
Hear the tale that I will tell. 
All of Klas, the emp'ror great. 
Of the mighty game he played ; 
Who from Corsica came forth. 
Rightly to inspect the earth. 

And there was a battling sore ; 
Just like oxen did they roar. 
Klas he was a cunning chap ; 
Soon he set his empire up ; — 
Sat him on a golden chair ; 
In the school played master there. 

And he helped his brothers off; 
Gave them mantle, coat, and staff. 
" Seek ye," said he then to thse, 
** Seek ye kingdoms — take your ease. 
On the Rhine seek kingdoms fair, 
For there is disunion there." 


With his wallet each did roam ; 
Found him money, found him home. 
Holland soon was Louis' prey ; 
Jerome took Westphale away ; 
Joseph a Don Spaniard grew ; 
Joachim grabbed something too. 

But his sisters cried " Oh dear !" 
That they quite forgotten were. 
Then he needs must something do 
To set up those ladies too ; 
But full pow'r he o'er them had ; 
They like little girls were led. 

Now did Klas set up his throne ; 
Wore on's head a golden crown. 
Who to harm our Klas could try ?— 
Snug was he as hog in sty. 
Soldiers plenty, too, had he ; 
And the feUow jumped with glee. 

But with pride he soon did swell ; 
That has never prospered well. 
** I will go to Russia, there 
I will kill each surly bear." 
To his people Klas thus spake ; 
Mightily he thus did brag. 

With his army did he go— 

** Bump!" there stuck he fast i' th' snow; 

And then Austerlitz' fair sun 

Shone so cold, he'd fain put on 



•1 . 


Warmest coat and thickest cap ; 
Scarce for trembling could stand up. 

And our mighty empereur 
Left in lurch his Monsieur &dre ; 
All his men had noses blue 
When they came their homes imto. 
Soon the knaves were forced to pack. 
For the Cossacks chased them back. 

Klas continued in his course ; 
Played his antics worse and worse : 
But at once he lost his game ; 
Quickly on his track they came. 
Soon exceeding small he sings, 
Liking not the look of things. 

St. Helena, that fair maid, 
Now's his paradise — ^his bride. 
Klas goes hunting with her out ; 
Dreams no more of battle rout ; 
And, to pass the time away. 
With an axe the rats doth slay. 


(In the Hambwrgh PlcUt-deutsch,) 

ORT mal lud, en bitgen still, 
Hort wat ick vertellen will. 
Van den groten Kaiser Klas, 
Dat war mal en fixen Bas, 


Ded von Korsika her ten 
Wall de welt mal recht besehn. 

Un' da wor en Sehlaehtere 
Bolken den' se, as de Ko ; 
Klas dat wor'n vertrackten Kop, 
Bald set he da baben op 
Set sik op en golden Stol, 
Un spel Meister in de Schol. 

Un sin Broders holp er ok, 
Gaf jem Mantel, Rock un Stock ; 
Sokt jo, sa he denn to jem, 
Ok en Stol, makt jo't bequem, 
Sokt en Rik jo dbem Rhin 
Wo se sik nich enig sin. 

Jeder nom sin Bedelsack 

Soch sik Geld, und Dak un FaL 

Holland nom de Ludewig, 

Ronmus nom Westphalen sik, 

Joseph wur en Herr Spaniol, 

Jochen sik ok got empfol. ^r * 

Un sin Siisters schrie'n o weh I 
Gans vergeten woren se, — 
Kreg he jem ok bi de Pump, 
Mak jem to wat op en Schlump, 
Doch muss' he jem gans reger'n 
Se benom 'n sik as de Gor'n. 



Elas set nu da baben op, 
Har so'n golden Ejron op'n Kop ; 
Wer wull unserm Kl&s wat do'n, 
He wor snigger as'n Schw6n 1 
Un Soldaten har he ok, 
Und de Kerl eprok as 'n Bok« 

Doch he bias van Uebermot, 
De deit nun un niimmer got. 
Ik will mal na Russland g&n, 
Will de Baren all dot schlan I 
Segt min KlSs to sine Lud, 
De he gans gewaltig briid. 

As he kom mit sin Armee, 
Bots ! da set he fast in Snee, 
Un de Siinn von Austerlitz 
Schi'n so kold — ^he nomm en Miitz 
Trok en warmen Kiddel an, 
Kunn vor Bebem nich mehr sta'n. 

Un de grote Empereur 
Let in Stich sin Musche frere, 
AUe hahn se'n blaue Schniit, 
As se kom'n ut Land heriit. 
Kosaken har'n se gripen wult, 
Nu heft je Kerls jem fix verpult ! 

Klas het dat noch mehrmals spelt, 
Un het ftmmer mehr noch grolt, 
Da wenn' sik enmal dat Blatt, 
Un' se komen em vor't Gatt, 


Un em wur nich got to Mod, 
Denn he left kein Flidderod. 

Helena de Jumfer is 

Nu sin Briit, sin Paradis ; 

Kl&s geit mit er op de Jagd 

Dromt nich mehr von Krieg un Scblacht, 

Un het he mal Langewil, 

Schleit he Rotten d'ot mit'n Bil. 


Oh ! he who from Russia is forced to roam. 
Has much unpleasantness when he gets home ; 
Guns, horses, and soldiers they all disappear. 
He's fiast in the mud now, quite up to his ear, — 
Oh, dear! 

He swore to the English a visit he'd pay; 
Oh which great occasion his boat went astray. 
His sugar supplies from Berlin he drew, 
And wrote to Vienna for coflFee, too, — 
Oh, dear ! 


" m make you great !" to the Poles he said, 
"And one of my provosts your king shall be made." 
The Poles through wet aad dry weather marched on, 
But the Cassel king came, and spoiled the fun, — 
Oh, dear! 


The sun was shining when forth rode he, 

Thinking ere winter in Moscow to be. 

** Soldiers," he said, "there's tlie gain of your strife, 

Contribution and easy life " — 

Oh, dear! 


The Moscowers thought, in council grave, 
What profit to live the life of a slave ? 
Before that we yield to the Corsican hound, 
We'll bum our good city down to the ground, — 
Oh dear ! 

Now the front door's shut, and the back door too, 
And nought but the Pole remains to him true ; 
From Archangel down to the Caspian Sea, 
The song of the people sounds joyously, — 
Oh dear ! 

His brother, the great political quack, 
In Spain, too, hath a hard nut to crack. 
He weareth of paper a gorgeous crown, 
And before his door dares not ventures down,— 
Oh dear 

The King of Rome, too, his poor little son. 
They can't let even that child alone ; 
And the holy Pope himself saith now, 
Two wives, my son, I can never allow, — 
Oh dear ! 

The tliree last verses^ whicli contain only dennndadons and anathemas o& 
the fallen conqueror, have been omitted. 



(§tt J^mistler va& mxt ^nbliiumt.) 


She dumb man spake to the blind man, 

" He'd do me a favour rare 
Who'd find for me the harper — 

Hast seen him anywhere ? 
Not that I myself care greatly, 

For harping, I may say ; 
But for my deaf son's pleasure 

I very much wish he'd play." 

The blind man he made answer, 

" Just now I've seen the same ; 
I'll have him fetched directly 

By my runner here, who's lame/' 
Then started the lame runner, 

His lord's request to meet, 
And, searching for the harper, 

Ran up and down the st'^eet. 

Then quickly came the harper. 

And lowly reverence made. 
He had no arms, and therefore 

The harp with his feet he played. 
He played until with rapture 

His strains the deaf man heard ; 
The blind man gazed upon him. 

The dumb spoke praising word. 


The lame man fell a-dancing, 

And sprang with main and might ; 
The company kept together 

'Till late into the night; 
And, mutually contented, 

At length did they homeward haste. 
The public pleased with the harper 

And he with the public's taste. 



(TraiiBlated from the German of Schiller.) 

" Be he knight, be he squire, who is here will dare 

To dive in the depths below ? 

A golden goblet I hurl through the air, — 

See o'er it already the black waters flow ; 

And he who will give't me once more to behold, 

Shall have for his guerdon the goblet of gold." 

Thus spake the monarch ; and forth flung he^ 
From the cliflF whose beetling height 
Looks down on the restless heaving sea. 
The goblet into the whirlpool's night : 
" Now who is the bold one, I ask again, 
Who dares to dive in the stormy main ?" 


The knights and the pages by his side 
Hear the words, but silence keep, 
And gaze on the boundless rolling tide. 
And no one will dare for the goblet the leap ; 
Till the king for the third time asks again, — 
** Will none of ye venture to dive in the main ?'' 

But still the warriors silent stand, 

Till a page of noble birth 

Steps proudly forth from the wavering band 

And flings his girdle and cloak to earth ; 

And the gallant knights and the ladies fair 

At the venturous youth in wonder stare. 

And as he steps to the mountain's brow, 

And gazes the pool upon. 

Backward the foaming waters now 

From the dark Charybdis come rushing on ; 

And with sound like the distant thunder's roar, 

Upward they leap to the air once more. 

And it boils and it bubbles, and hisses and seethes, 

As when water with fire doth vie ; 

Towards Heaven a vapoury column breathes. 

And wave on wave rolls eternally ; 

Exhausted never, and ceasing not. 

As though a new sea by the old was begot. 

For a moment now hushed is the roaring tide, 
And black 'mid the sparkling swell, 

Now quick ere the breakers return — a prayer 

The youth for his soul doth say ; 

And — a cry of horror has rent the air, 

For already the breakers have borne him away — 

And darkly that venturous swimmer o'er 

The cavern closes : they see him no more. 

And the silence above not a sound doth break. 
Save the deep sea's hollow swell ; 
And whispers murmured by lips that quake, 
" Thou high-hearted stripling, fare thee well !'' 
And louder and louder the breakers they hear. 
While waiting in anxious, in passionate fear. 

" And if thy crown thou shouldst cast in the sea, 
And said'st — * Who brings me the crown 
Shall wear it from henceforth and king shall be'- 
The dear-bought prize could j^t tempt me down. 


^ THB DIVER. 321 


Jlnd louder and louder, like tempest's deep roar, 
'.tHi9 voice of the ocean is heard on the shore. 

And it boils and it bubbles, and hisses and seethes, 

As when water with fire doth vie ; 

Towards Heaven a feathery column breathes, 

And wave on wave rolls eternally ; 

And with sound like the distant thunder's roar, 

The waters leap upward to air once more. 

And they see from the darkling breakers' foam 

A swan-like object glide ; 

An arm and a shoulder upwards come, 

Swift and sturdily stemming the tide ; 

'Tis he ! and behold in his left hand high 

He waves the gold goblet triumphantly. 

A deep and a lengthened breath he drew. 
And hailed the light of Heaven ; 
And a joyous shout ran the circle through : 
" He lives — ^he is here — ^to him 'twas given 
From the cavernous whirlpool's watery grave 
His gallant spirit alive to save." 

He comes — and amid the gladsome ring. 

The page on bended knee 

The goblet lays at the feet of the king 

Whose lovely daughter speedily 

With sparkling wine fills the cup to the brim, 

And the page to the king turns, and pledges him : 


Or ever presume in those things to pry, 
Which they graciously hide in night's mystery 

With lightning speed I was downward drawn. 
When forth from the rocky keep 
A current came headlong bounding on 
JtHod caught me fast in its giant sweep, 
Bragging me down to the depths of the sea. 
In dizzying whirl, resistlessly. 

The gods then showed me — ^to whom I cried 

When I thus was downward flung — 

A jagged rock that rose from the tide, 

And to it in terror I wildly clung. 

There, too, 'mid the coral the goblet was tost, 

That in fathomless depths had else been lost. 

Beneath, the purple darkness deep 
An hundred fathoms lay ; * '• " 


The prickly ray, and swordfish among, 
The hammerfish's deformity ; 
And the ocean hyena,^ the dif^ftil shark, 
Defiance grinn'd through the waters dark, 

I shuddered with horror as there I clung, 

Nor for human help could cry ; 

One reasoning being those monsters among, 

Alone in that fearful place was I ; 

In realms where no human sound could be, 

'Mid the demon spawn of the mighty sea. ^\ 

A thing with an hundred limbs drew near, 

Slow moving each ghastly joint ; 

It snapped at me ; m my frenzied fear 

I loosed my hold t)f the rocky point ; 

Then the rushing current seized me once more ; 

But that was my safety ; it bore me ashore." 

Marvelled the king when those things heard he. 

And said, " The goblet's thine own ; 

And this signet-ring do I destine for thee. 

Enriched with genis of the costly stone. 

If once more thou ;|irilt venture and give me to know 

What things thou shalt see in the jwraters below." 

With pity she heard it, his daughter fair. 

And thus to the king did say : 

" And has he not ventured what none would dare ? 

My father, enough of Uiis fearful play ; 

324 . THE BOOK OF OEfikAN S0NG9. 

Or if thy soul's longing thou canst not tame, 
Let the belted knight^out the page to shame." 

.>^ V 
Then the king his hand for the paUp did stretch, 
And flung it deep in the sea : 
" If once more thou darest the goblet to fetch, 
The foremost shalt thou of my warriors be, 
And* her as thy bride shalt embrace this day. 
Whose won^M^y pity does now for thee pray." 

It shoots through his soul like the flashing of light. 
And valour beams from his eye ; 
When blushing he sees that maiden bright 
Then pale to the earth sinking helplessly ; 
That beauteous prize must his efibrts crown,^ 
** For life or for death, then," he phthges down. 

* ^ * * ^ 

Still heard are the breakers ; still come they again 
At the voice of the thundering fall ; 
And fond eyes are gazing, and gazing in vain, — 
They're coming, they're comiqg, flie waters all ; — 
Upward they foam, and downArs^ they roar, 
But that gallant youth shall return no more. 





(&ttmmt ^idxonnl Wiwc San^-) 

A cry bursts forth like thunder sound. 
Like sword's fierce clash, like wave's rebound — 
To the Rhine, the Rhine, the German Rhine ! 
To guard the river who'll combine ? . , 
Dear Fatherland, good trust be thine — 
Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 

From myriad mouths the summons flies. 

And brightly flash a myriad eyes. 

Brave, honest, true, the Germans come. 

To guard the sacred bounds of home. 

Dear Fatherland, good trust be thine — 
Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 

And though the strife bring death to me. 

No foreign river shalt thou be ; 

Bxhaustless as thy watery flood 

Is German land in hiero-blood. 

Dear Fatherland, good trust be thine — 
Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 

If upward he his glance doth fijsend. 

There hero-fathers downward bend. 

He sweareth, proud to fight his part. 

Thou Rhine, be German, like my heart. 

Dear Fatherland, good trust be thine — 
Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 


While yet one drop of blood ttou^lt yield. 
While yet one hand the sword can wield. 
While gras||s.the riJQle one bold hand. 
No foe shall tread thy sacred strand. 

Dear Fatherland, good trust be thin( 

Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 

The oath peals forth, the wave runs by. 
Our flags, unfurled, are waving high. 
. To the E&ine, the Rhine, the German Rhine ! 
To keep thee free we^ll all combine. 

Dear Fatherland, good trust be thine — 
Fast stands and true the watch by the Rhine. 



(Hoffmann bon JalUrskbtrt.) 

Faithful love, till death enduring. 
Pledge I thee, with heart and hand ; 
All my being, all my having, 
Owe I thee, my Fatherland. 

Not in words and ditties only 
Would my heart its thanks outpour ; 
For with deeds I fain would prove it. 
In the dark, fierce strife of war. 

So in joy, and so in sorrow, 
Friend and foe Fd tell it now ; 
We for aye are bound together. 
And my pride and joy art thou. 


Faithful love, till death enduring, 
Pledge I thee with heart and hand. 
All my being, all my having. 
Owe I theo, my Fatherland'. 




Death and destruction threatened they. 
But haughtily we defied them ; 
Two infantry columns, two batteries gay. 
Our troopers to earth did ride them. 

With swinging sabres, with loosened rein. 

Flags flying and lances steady, 

^Twas thus through their ranks we thundered amain, 

Curassiers and lancers, aye ready. 

But ^twas bloody work this, a deadly ride. 
For all that we hurled them o^er ; 
Of two regiments that rode forth, side by side, 
One half fell to rise no more. 

With cloven brow, and with shattered breast. 

On the blood-sodden earth they^re extended. 

In the pride of their youth summoned forth to their oltt. 

Blow trumpet, the strife is ended. 


And lie blew in the trompefc, whose valiant tone 
Had mng o'er the^ blood-stained ground, 
That to glorious combat had called us on, 
^And — the trumpiil refused its sound. 

But a moan, Uke a ciy with pain opprest. 
Prom its metal mouth was sped. 
A bullet had pierced its brazen breast. 
And the wounded one wailed for the dead. 

For the brave ones, the true ones, the watch by the Rhine, 
For the brothers the fight had cost us. 
For one and for all our hearts must pine 
For the price this day hath cost us. 

And the night came down, and we rode away ; 
By the watch-fires we lie and shiver ; 
And the rain poured down, and we thought as we lay 
Of those who were sleeping for ever. 



Oh Strasburg, oh Strasburg, thou wondrous, beauteous 

town ! 
Now sits before thy old walls the Prussian soldiers down. 
The Prussian, Bavarian, and Suabian soldiers come. 
For once more they would make thee, old German town, 

their home. 


Tom from the German Empire two hundred years ago. 
With stalwart German hands, friend, wp fain would grasp 

thee now ; 
Through Alsace, through Alsace, shiri^far thy Minster- 

Through Alsace, through Alsace, the warlike tempest 


Through Alsace, through Alsace, the Crown Prince 

marcheth here. 
And of the red-legged Frenchmen he^ll sweep the country 

The Crown Prince, the Crown Prince, and Frederick 

Charles we see. 
And Steinmetz, hoary hero, to make up the three. 

These three, through good old Alsace, like mountain 

tempest pour. 
Now shakes Brwin von Steinbach, and shakes Hhe 

Minster tower ; 
And in the wind that^s blowing, the foreign guile drives 

past j 
The Frenchman must be packing — the cock hath crowed 

his last. 
And to the distant Vosges now, on German fields alone, 
The noble Minster^s towers for ever shall look down. 

This is a modem adaptation of a very old song, " O Strasborg, O Stras- 
burg, da wnnderschdne Stadt, in dir da liegt begraben so mannicher Soldat." 



The RHne at midnight hour doth cry. 
From heavy dream awaked am I, 
And hear a deep resounding 
As of war trumpets sounding. 
Gleams in the sky a victor star. 
And from the war dim sounds afar : 

" God with thee, thou German land !' 


That heard the brook in the deep dark wood. 

And rushed as fast as rush he could. 

And all his watery store, then '^ - 

To the Rhine did gaily pour, then ; 

And higher boils the river's flood. 

The wave it thirsts for foeman's blood. 

^^ God with thee, thou German lanfl V 

From Lurlei rock to the vale below 
At eve a wondrous sound doth go. 
Let foemen but appear now. 
And it shall cost them dear now. 
My song can charm thee, foreign knave, 
Down to the deep and wat'ry grave. 

" God with thee, thou German land V' 

Ye vineyard keepers, march below. 
For other steel exchange the hoe. * 
Ye boatmen row no longer. 
To sport i* the moonlight yonder ; 
Your homy fists must grasp the steel. 
Through Rhineland vales the shout doth reel, 
" God with thee, thou German land V' 

A royal hero leads you forth, 

With youthful fire, to deeds of worth. 

Give courage, gracious Lord, 

And blessing to his sword ! 

Ye Germans all, ifrom West and Bast, 

We soon shall sh&ife the victor's feast. 

'^ God with thee, thou German land !" 

And we mast have thee, too, Lorraine ! 
" GfdS with thee, thou German land !"