Profound silence reigned around, and nothing was to be heard but the quick steps of the wanderer, who drew nearer and nearer. Suddenly this silence was interrupted by a fresh and youthful voice, singing the air of a popular song.
"Ah, he sings," murmured Schill. "He who can sing to-day, must be very harmless, and it is not worth while to kill him."
"Hush! hush! let us listen to his song. He is now singing words to the melody. Just listen!"
The voice resounded nearer and nearer to the two listeners, and they could understand the words he was singing:
O Hermann! for thy country's fall
No tears! Where vanquished valor bled
The victor rules, and Slavery's pall,
Upon these hills and vales is spread.
Shame burns within me, for the brave
Lie mouldering in the freeman's grave.
No voice! where sturdy Luther spoke
Fearless for men who dared be free!
O would that Heaven's thunder woke
My people for their liberty!
Must heroes fight and die in vain?—
Ye cowards! grasp your swords again!
Revenge! revenge! a gory shroud
To tyrants, and the slaves that yield'
Eternal honor calls aloud
For courage in the battle-field.
Who loves or fears a conquered land
That bows beneath the despot's hand?
And whither flee? Where Winkelried
And Tell and Ruyter bravely broke
Oppression's power—their country freed—
All—all beneath the usurper's yoke!
From Alpine fountains to the sea
The patriot dead alone are free.
My people! in this sorrowing night,
The clanking of your chains may be
The sign of vengeance, and the fight
Of former times the world may see,
When Hermann in that storied day
As a wild torrent cleft his way.
No idle song, O youth! thy boast.
In self-born virtue be as one
Who is himself a mighty host
By whose sole arm is victory won.
No blazoned monument so grand
As death for the dear Fatherland.