Poems — The Knight's Pledge

THE KNIGHT'S PLEDGE.

The tedious night at length hath pass'd;

To horse!

to horse!

we'll ride as fast As ever bird did fly.

Ha!

but the morning air is chill;

Frau Wirthin, one last goblet fill, We'll drain it ere we die!

Thou youthful grass, why look'st so green?

Soon dyed in blood of mine I ween, With damask rose thou'lt vie.

The goblet here!

with sword in hand I pledge thee first, my Fatherland, Oh!

blessed for thee to die!

Again our mailed hands raise the cup: Freedom, to thee we drink it up.

Low may that coward lie Who fails to pledge, with heart and hand, The freedom of our glorious Land-- Her Freedom, ere we die!

Our wives--but, ah!

the glass is clear, The cannon thunders--grasp the spear, We'll pledge them in a sigh.

Now, on the Foe like thunder crash!

We'll scathe them as a lightning flash, And conquer, though we die!

OPPORTUNITY.

[8] FROM THE ITALIAN OF MACHIAVELLI.