The house was of red brick. Around the hills
Murmured a wood of fir-trees on the plains;
Among the woods a white lake gleamed afar.
One night a shout aroused us from our sleep;
A fiery day dawned in the window, shook
The window-panes, and whirling wreaths of smoke
Burst forth within the house. We to the door.
Flames curled through all the streets, sparks fell like hail.
A horrid cry arose, ‘To arms! the Germans
Are in the town! to arms!’ My father rushed