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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 07
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Now woe betide thee, Gaul!
Woe worth the hour a robber thrust
Thy sword into thy hand!
A curse upon him that we must
Unsheathe our German brand!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! Germania!
For home and hearth, for wife and child,
For all loved things that we
Are bound to keep all undefiled
From foreign ruffianry!
For German right, for German speech,
For German household ways,
For German homesteads, all and each,
Strike home through battle's blaze!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! Germania!
Up, Germans, up, with God! The die
Clicks loud—we wait the throw!
Oh, who may think without a sigh
What blood is doom'd to flow?
Yet, look thou up, with fearless heart!
Thou must, thou shalt prevail!
Great, glorious, free as ne'er thou wert,
All hail, Germania, hail!
Hurrah! Victoria!
Hurrah! Germania!
* * * * *
THE TRUMPET OF GRAVELOTTE[47 - Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] (Aug. 16, 1870)
Death and Destruction they belched forth in vain,
We grimly defied their thunder;
Two columns of foot and batteries twain,
We rode and cleft them asunder.
With brandished sabres, with reins all slack,
Raised standards, and low-couched lances,
Thus we Uhlans and Cuirassiers wildly drove back,
And hotly repelled their advances.
But the ride was a ride of death and of blood;
With our thrusts we forced them to sever;
But of two whole regiments, lusty and good,
Out of two men, one rose never.
With breast shot through, with brow gaping wide,
They lay pale and cold in the valley,
Snatched away in their youth, in their manhood's pride—
Now, Trumpeter, sound to the rally!
And he took the trumpet, whose angry thrill
Urged us on to the glorious battle,
And he blew a blast—but all silent and still
Was the trump, save a dull hoarse rattle,
Save a voiceless wail, save a cry of woe,
That burst forth in fitful throbbing—
A bullet had pierced its metal through,
For the Dead the wounded was sobbing!
For the faithful, the brave, for our brethren all,
For the Watch on the Rhine, true-hearted!
Oh, the sound cut into our inmost soul!—
It brokenly wailed the Departed!
And now fell the night, and we galloped past,
Watch-fires were flaring and flying,
Our chargers snorted, the rain poured fast—
And we thought of the Dead and the Dying!
* * * * *
MORITZ GRAF VON STRACHWITZ
DOUGLAS OF THE BLEEDING HEART[48 - Translator: William G. Howard.] (1842)
Earl Douglas, don thy helm so bright,
And buckle thy sword with speed,
Bind on thy sharpest spurs to-night
And saddle thy swiftest steed!
"The death watch ticks in the hall of Scone,
All Scotland hears its warning,
King Robert in pains of death does groan,
He'll never see the morning."
For nigh on forty miles they sped
And spoke of words not four,
And horse and spur with blood were red
When they came to the palace door.
King Robert lay at the north tower's turn;
With death he'd begun to battle:
"I hear the sword of Bannockburn
On the stairway clatter and rattle.
Woe worth the hour a robber thrust
Thy sword into thy hand!
A curse upon him that we must
Unsheathe our German brand!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! Germania!
For home and hearth, for wife and child,
For all loved things that we
Are bound to keep all undefiled
From foreign ruffianry!
For German right, for German speech,
For German household ways,
For German homesteads, all and each,
Strike home through battle's blaze!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah! Germania!
Up, Germans, up, with God! The die
Clicks loud—we wait the throw!
Oh, who may think without a sigh
What blood is doom'd to flow?
Yet, look thou up, with fearless heart!
Thou must, thou shalt prevail!
Great, glorious, free as ne'er thou wert,
All hail, Germania, hail!
Hurrah! Victoria!
Hurrah! Germania!
* * * * *
THE TRUMPET OF GRAVELOTTE[47 - Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] (Aug. 16, 1870)
Death and Destruction they belched forth in vain,
We grimly defied their thunder;
Two columns of foot and batteries twain,
We rode and cleft them asunder.
With brandished sabres, with reins all slack,
Raised standards, and low-couched lances,
Thus we Uhlans and Cuirassiers wildly drove back,
And hotly repelled their advances.
But the ride was a ride of death and of blood;
With our thrusts we forced them to sever;
But of two whole regiments, lusty and good,
Out of two men, one rose never.
With breast shot through, with brow gaping wide,
They lay pale and cold in the valley,
Snatched away in their youth, in their manhood's pride—
Now, Trumpeter, sound to the rally!
And he took the trumpet, whose angry thrill
Urged us on to the glorious battle,
And he blew a blast—but all silent and still
Was the trump, save a dull hoarse rattle,
Save a voiceless wail, save a cry of woe,
That burst forth in fitful throbbing—
A bullet had pierced its metal through,
For the Dead the wounded was sobbing!
For the faithful, the brave, for our brethren all,
For the Watch on the Rhine, true-hearted!
Oh, the sound cut into our inmost soul!—
It brokenly wailed the Departed!
And now fell the night, and we galloped past,
Watch-fires were flaring and flying,
Our chargers snorted, the rain poured fast—
And we thought of the Dead and the Dying!
* * * * *
MORITZ GRAF VON STRACHWITZ
DOUGLAS OF THE BLEEDING HEART[48 - Translator: William G. Howard.] (1842)
Earl Douglas, don thy helm so bright,
And buckle thy sword with speed,
Bind on thy sharpest spurs to-night
And saddle thy swiftest steed!
"The death watch ticks in the hall of Scone,
All Scotland hears its warning,
King Robert in pains of death does groan,
He'll never see the morning."
For nigh on forty miles they sped
And spoke of words not four,
And horse and spur with blood were red
When they came to the palace door.
King Robert lay at the north tower's turn;
With death he'd begun to battle:
"I hear the sword of Bannockburn
On the stairway clatter and rattle.
