I’ll also leave thee behind my hound,
To be the castle’s defender;
My German folk, like faithful dogs,
Will guard me and never surrender.
They offer me the imperial throne,
Their affection is almost provoking
My image is graven on every heart,
And every pipe they are smoking.
Ye Germans are a wonderful race,
So simple and yet so clever;
One forgets that gunpowder, but for you,
Had been discover’d never.
Your emperor,—no, your father I’ll be,
Your welfare shall be my sole glory—
O blissful thought! it makes me as proud
As the Gracchi’s mother in story.
I’ll govern my people by feeling alone,
And not by the light of mere reason;
I never could bear diplomacy,
And politics hate like treason.
A huntsman am I, and Nature’s own child,
Who had in the forest my training,
With chamois and snipe and roebuck and boar,—
A foe to all nonsense and feigning.
By proclamations I never enticed,
No printed pamphlet invented;
I say: “My people, the salmon’s all gone,
“With cod for to-day be contented.
“If I don’t please you as Emperor, take
“The first donkey that comes about you;
“I had, when I lived in the Tyrol, no lack,
“I’ve plenty to eat without you.”
Thus speak I, but now, my wife, farewell,
I must end my long discourses;
My father-in-law’s postilion’s outside,
Awaiting me with the horses.
Quick, hand me over my travelling cap,
With the ribbon all black-red-golden;
Thou’lt see me soon with the diadem,
In the dress imperial and olden.