"Only—that his poor old mudher, she waits home all full of fear,
And I cannot there be going, till I take good news from here!
"Young he was when we did bring him from the Rhine land o'er the sea;
I did lif for her and Conrad—she did lif for him and me.
"Other ones we bring not with us: Gott he says, 'These more be mine;'
And we left them all a-sleeping 'mong the vineyards of the Rhine.
"He haf not a cross word gif us—he haf luf us every day,
And if he to-night comes home not, 'tis the first that he's away.
"Let me to that fire, Policeman! I care what for walls or brand?
Maybe he in there be living—reaching for his fadher's hand!
"Let me past, I say, Policeman! I haf work there to be done!
Let go me or I will strike you!—is it that you haf no son?"
Still the flames were like a furnace, and the walls were crashing loud,
And the old man, held in safety, fainted 'mid the trembling crowd.
And the mother watched and wondered, with her great eyes scarcely wet;
But, half dazed amid her sorrow, waits for Conrad even yet.