For I was born at Bingen,—at Bingen on the Rhine.
“Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around,
To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground,
That we fought the battle bravely; and when the day was done,
Full many a corpse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting sun.
And ’mid the dead and dying were some grown old in wars—
The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars;
But some were young, and suddenly beheld life’s morn decline;
And one had come from Bingen,—fair Bingen on the Rhine.
“Tell my mother, that her other sons shall comfort her old age;