“And I drink to the proudest maiden
That treads this German-land;
No other love shall my heart own,
No other queen my hand.
“And I’ll pledge her three times over,
This haughty queen of mine,
In the brightest flowing nectar
That ever kissed the Rhine.”
Thus spake the bold Count Otto,
And held his goblet up,
And three times overflowing
Each student drained his cup.
“This is the fairest hour,
For the sunset clouds unfold
To the purple sea of twilight
Their red-tipped sails of gold.
“And the hecatombs of sweetness
That all the day have risen
In the bosom of the flowers
Unbar their shining prison.
“This is the fairest hour,
The hour of eventide,
And I drink to the fairest maiden
That dwells the Rhine beside.
“And I pledge her three times over,
Though her only dower should be
The heaven-born gift of beauty,
And a faithful love for me.”
Thus spake Adelbert, smiling,
And held his goblet up,
And three times overflowing
Each student drained his cup.
Then paused the twain in wond’ring,
What Ludwig’s toast might be;
For their comrade sat in silence,
And never word spake he.
“How now? Why thus, brave Ludwig,
Sitt’st thou in pensive mood?
Dost choose to dwell unmated,
In loveless solitude?”