HANS BREITMANN’S BALLAD TO THE AUTHOR WHEN A GIRL—SET TO MUSIC BY ADOLPH MANN

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Years afterwards—in 1908—Mrs. E. K. Pennell wrote the Life of her uncle, Charles Godfrey Leland, and there, to my surprise, reproduced my hidden ballad, a copy of which she had found amongst the writer’s papers. Sydney Low, in his critique of the book in the Standard, said this poem “was one of the best Leland ever wrote.” Leland intended it to be his last Breitmann Ballad, but I believe he wrote another later.

I dink de sonn’ hafe perisht in all dis winter rain,

I never dink der Breitmann vould efer sing again;

De sonne vant no candle nor any Erdenlicht,

Vot you vant mit a poem? bist selber ganz Gedicht.

For like a Paar of Ballads are de augen in your head,

(I petter call dem bullets vot shoot de Herzen dead).

And ash like a ripplin’ rifer efery poem ought to pe,