From the tower calls the watchman,
And the pennon gaily flutters,
And from yonder cliff is ringing
Wondrously the Lurley's song.
But, alas! the good time passes;
Nought but grief is then my portion;
I devote myself to drinking,
Pray at Cöln in the Cathedral,
And become a beast of burden.
Shabby tradesmen must I serve then,