The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume V Part 14

Therefore will we what G.o.d did say, With honest truth, maintain-- And ne'er a fellow-creature slay, A tyrant's pay to gain!

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.

O Germany! bright Fatherland!

O 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 sky-- Your 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 fife and drum!

This day our sabres, man for man, To stain with blood, we come; With hangman's and with coward's blood, O 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-- Your banners wave on high; We'll gain us freedom's victory, Or freedom's death we'll die!

[Ill.u.s.tration: ERNST MORITZ ARNDT Julius Roting]

UNION SONG[10] (1814)

This blessed hour we are united, Of German men a mighty choir, And from the lips of each, delighted, Our praying souls to heaven aspire; With high and sacred awe abounding We join in solemn thoughts today, And so our hearts should be resounding In clear harmonic song and play.

To whom shall foremost thanks be given?

To G.o.d, the great, so long concealed, Who, when the cloud of shame was riven, Himself in flames to us revealed, Who, stubborn foes with lightning felling, Restored to us our strength of yore, Who, on the stars in power dwelling, Reigns ever and forevermore.

Who should our second wish be hearing?

The majesty of Fatherland-- Destroyed be those who still are sneering!

Hail them who with it fall and stand!

By virtue winning admiration, Beloved for honesty and might, Long live through centuries our nation As strong in honor and in might!

The third is German manhood's treasure-- Ring out it shall, with clearness mete!

For Freedom is the German pleasure, And Germans step to Freedom's beat.

Be life and death by her inspired-- Of German hearts, oh, longing bright!

And death for Freedom's sake desired Is German honor and delight.

The fourth--for n.o.ble consecration Now lift on high both heart and hand!

Old loyalty within our nation And German faith forever stand!-- These virtues shall, our weal a.s.suring, Remain our union's s.h.i.+eld and stay; Our manly word will be enduring Until the world shall pa.s.s away.

Now let the final chord be ringing In jubilee--stand not apart!

Let sound our mighty, joyful singing From lip to lip, from heart to heart!

The weal from which no devils bar us, The word that doth our league infold-- The bliss which tyrants cannot mar us We must believe in, we must hold!

_THEODOR KoRNER_

MEN AND KNAVES[11] (1813)

The storm is out; the land is roused; Where is the coward who sits well-housed?

Fie, on thee, boy, disguised in curls, Behind the stove, 'mong gluttons and girls!

A graceless, worthless wight thou must be; No German maid desires thee, No German song inspires thee, No German Rhine-wine fires thee.

Forth in the van, Man by man, Swing the battle-sword who can!

When we stand watching, the livelong night, Through piping storms, till morning light, Thou to thy downy bed canst creep, And there in dreams of rapture sleep.

_Chorus_.

When, hoa.r.s.e and shrill, the trumpet's blast, Like the thunder of G.o.d, makes our hearts beat fast, Thou in the theatre lov'st to appear, Where trills and quavers tickle the ear.

_Chorus_.

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

_Chorus_.

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.

_Chorus_.

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.

_Chorus_.

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!

LuTZOW'S WILD BAND[12] (1813)

What gleams through the woods in the morning sun?

Hear it nearer and nearer draw!

It winds in and out in columns dun, And the trumpet-notes on the roused winds run, And they startle the soul with awe.