When, hoarse and shrill, the trumpet’s blast. 
  Like the thunder of God, makes our heart beat fast,
  Thou in the theatre lov’st to appear,
  Where trills and quavers tickle the ear. 
    A graceless, worthless wight, etc.

  When the glare of noonday scorches the brain,
  When our parched lips seek water in vain,
  Thou canst make champagne corks fly
  At the groaning tables of luxury. 
    A graceless, worthless wight, etc.

  When we, as we rush to the strangling fight,
  Send home to our true-loves a long “Good-night,”
  Thou canst hie thee where love is sold,
  And buy thy pleasure with paltry gold. 
    A graceless, worthless wight, etc.

  When lance and bullet come whistling by,
  And death in a thousand shapes draws nigh,
  Thou canst sit at thy cards, and kill
  King, queen, and knave with thy spadille. 
    A graceless, worthless wight, etc.

  If on the red field our bell should toll,
  Then welcome be death to the patriot’s soul! 
  Thy pampered flesh shall quake at its doom,
  And crawl in silk to a hopeless tomb. 
    A pitiful exit thine shall be;
    No German maid shall weep for thee,
    No German song shall they sing for thee,
    No German goblets shall ring for thee. 
      Forth in the van,
      Man for man,
    Swing the battle-sword who can!

From the German of KARL THEODOR KOeRNER. 
Translation of CHARLES TIMOTHY BROOKS.

* * * * *

THE WATCH ON THE RHINE[A]

[Footnote A:  Written by a manufacturer of Wurtemburg in 1840, when France was threatening the left bank of the Rhine.  It was set to music by Carl Wilhelm, and during the Franco-Prussian war of 1871 was adopted as the national folk-hymn and rallying cry of the army.]

  A voice resounds like thunder-peal,
  ’Mid dashing waves and clang of steel:—­
  “The Rhine, the Rhine, the German Rhine! 
  Who guards to-day my stream divine?”

  Chorus.

  Dear Fatherland, no danger thine: 
  Firm stand thy sons to watch the Rhine_!

  They stand, a hundred thousand strong,
  Quick to avenge their country’s wrong;
  With filial love their bosoms swell,
  They’ll guard the sacred landmark well!

  The dead of a heroic race
  From heaven look down and meet their gaze;
  They swear with dauntless heart, “O Rhine,
  Be German as this breast of mine!”

  While flows one drop of German blood,
  Or sword remains to guard thy flood,
  While rifle rests in patriot hand,—­
  No foe shall tread thy sacred strand!

  Our oath resounds, the river flows,
  In golden light our banner glows;
  Our hearts will guard thy stream divine: 
  The Rhine, the Rhine, the German Rhine!