Remembered, in the murderous fight,
God, Fatherland, and thee,—
Turned, from the deep and smoky night,
His Frederic to see,
And trembled,—with a flush of fear
His visage mounted high;
He trembled, not that death was near,
But lest thou, too, shouldst die:
Despised the balls like scattered seed,
The cannon's thunder-tone,
Fought fiercely, did a hero's deed,
Till all thy foes had flown.
Now thanks he God for all His might,
And sings, Victoria!
And all the blood from out this fight
Flows to Theresia.
And if she will not stay the plague,
Nor peace to thee concede,
Storm with us, Frederic, first her Prague,
Then, to Vienna lead!
[Footnote 14: Marshal Schwerin, seventy years of age, who was killed at the head of a regiment, with its colors in his hand, just as it crossed through the fire to the enemy's intrenchments.]
[Footnote 15: The King's brother.]
[Footnote 16: A corps of foot-soldiers in the Austrian service, eventually incorporated in the army. They were composed of Servians, Croats, etc., inhabitants of the military frontier, and were named originally from the village of Pandúr in Lower Hungary, where probably the first recruits were gathered.]
The love which the soldiers had for Frederic survived in the army after all the veterans of his wars had passed away. It is well preserved in this camp-song:—