EBERHARD.
“I wind my horn on the rocky steep,
In the heart of the greenwood free,
And I safely lay me down and sleep
On any subject’s knee.”
Oh, then the princes were touched at heart,
And they said, in that stately hall,
“Thou art richer than we, Count Eberhard;
Thy treasure is greater than all.”
EQUALITY.
The banners waved, the bugles rung,
The fight was hot and hard;
Beneath the walls of Doffingen,
Fast fell the ranks of Suabian men
Led on by Eberhard.
Count Ulric was a valiant youth,
The son of Eberhard;
The banners waved, the bugles rung,
His spearmen on the foe he flung,
And pressed them sore and hard.
“Ulric is slain!” the nobles cried,—
The bugles ceased to blow;
But soon the monarch’s order ran:
“My son is as another man,
Press boldly on the foe!”