But those 'tis known who die of thirst
Ne'er rest in quiet graves,
So now he storms with dryness curst
As ghost around and raves:
'Rouse there! rouse out of the house, there!
Hey, landlord! help me, Heaven!
Can no one get a drop of wine
By night at half-past 'leven?'
And all who in the Odenwald
At midnight still are dry