Rush to the “Star,”[10] where, pure and clear,
They quaff their mild and sparkling beer.
Belovèd “High,” beloved “Star,”
Dear to my heart your memories are.
That “High,” where once, when violent blew
The gale of war the whole night through,
I fought the town with joyous glee,
Though pain with joy possessed me;
For whirled and kicked, ’mid scream and yell,
With two black orbs at last I fell.