And from his trance the sleeper wake.
The solid mountain shall dispart,
The granite slab in splinters start,
(Responsive to those accents weird)
And loose the Kaiser’s shaggy beard.
Through all the startled air shall rise
The old Teutonic battle cries;
The horns of war that once could stir
The wild blood of the Berserker,
Shall fling their blare abroad, and then