Page images
PDF
EPUB

The Marseillaise

Ah, no, no!

His fatherland's not bounded so!

Which is the German's fatherland?
So tell me now at last the land!-
As far's the German accent rings
And hymns to God in heaven sings,-
That is the land,—

There, brother, is thy fatherland!

There is the German's fatherland,

Where oaths attest the grasped hand,

Where truth beams from the sparkling eyes,
And in the heart love warmly lies;-

That is the land,—
There, brother, is thy fatherland!

That is the German's fatherland,

Where wrath pursues the foreign band,—
Where every Frank is held a foe,

And Germans all as brothers glow;—
That is the land,—

All Germany's thy fatherland!

All Germany, then, the land shall be;
Watch o'er it, God, and grant that we
With German hearts, in deed and thought,
May love it truly as we ought.

Be this the land,

All Germany shall be the land!

2199

From the German of Ernst Moritz Arndt [1769-1860]

THE MARSEILLAISE *

YE sons of freedom, wake to glory!

Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise! Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary, Behold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding,

* For the original of this poem see page 3586.

With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,

While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
To arms! to arms, ye brave!

The avenging sword unsheathe;

March on! march on! all hearts resolved
On victory or death.

Now, now the dangerous storm is rolling,
Which treacherous kings, confederate, raise;
The dogs of war, let loose, are howling,
And lo! our fields and cities blaze;

And shall we basely view the ruin,

While lawless force, with guilty stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide,

With crimes and blood his hands imbruing?

With luxury and pride surrounded,
The vile, insatiate despots dare,

Their thirst of power and gold unbounded,
To meet and vend the light and air;
Like beasts of burden would they load us,
Like gods would bid their slaves adore:
But man is man, and who is more?
Then, shall they longer lash and goad us?

O Liberty! can man resign thee,

Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee?
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield,
But freedom is our sword and shield,

And all their arts are unavailing.

To arms! to arms, ye brave!

The avenging sword unsheathe;

March on! march on! all hearts resolved

On victory or death.

Adapted from the French of Rouget de Lisle [1760-1836]

SOLDIER SONGS

"CHARLIE IS MY DARLING"

'Twas on a Monday morning
Richt early in the year,
That Charlie cam' to our toun,
The young Chevalier.

And Charlie he's my darling,
My darling, my darling;
Charlie he's my darling,
The young Chevalier !

As he was walking up the street,
The city for to view,

Oh, there he spied a bonny lass
The window looking through.

Say licht's he jumped up the stair,
And tirled at the pin;
And wha sae ready as hersel'

To let the laddie in?

He set his Jenny on his knee,

All in his Highland dress;
For brawly weel he kenned the way
To please a bonny lass.

It's up yon heathery mountain,

And down yon scroggy glen,

We daurna gang a-milking,
For Charlie and his men.

And Charlie he's my darling,
My darling, my darling;
Charlie he's my darling,
The young Chevalier !

Unknown

THE FAREWELL

It was a' for our rightfu' King
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King
We e'er saw Irish land,
My dear-

We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,

And a' is done in vain;

My love and native land, farewell,
For I maun cross the main,
My dear-

For I maun cross the main.

He turned him right and round about

Upon the Irish shore,

And gae his bridle-reins a shake,

With, Adieu for evermore,
My dear-

With, Adieu for evermore!

The sodger frae the wars returns,

The sailor frae the main; But I hae parted frae my love,

Never to meet again,

My dear

Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and night is come,

And a' folk bound to sleep,

I think on him that's far awa',
The lee-lang night, and weep,
My dear-

The lee-lang night, and weep.

Robert Burns [1759-1796]

"Here's a Health to Them That's Awa""

2203

"HERE'S A HEALTH TO THEM THAT'S AWA""

HERE'S a health to them that's awa',

Here's a health to them that's awa';

And wha winna wish guid-luck to our cause,

May never guid-luck be their fa'!

It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
It's guid to support Caledonia's cause,
And bide by the buff and the blue.

Here's a health to them that's awa',

Here's a health to them that's awa';

Here's a health to Charlie, the chief o' the clan,
Although that his band be sma'.

May Liberty meet wi' success!

May Prudence protect her frae evil!

May tyrants and Tyranny tine in the mist,

And wander their way to the devil!

Here's a health to them that's awa',

Here's a health to them that's awa';

Here's a health to Tammie, the Norland laddie,

That lives at the lug o' the law!

Here's freedom to him that wad read!

Here's freedom to him that wad write!

There's nane ever feared that the truth should be heard,

But they wham the truth wad indite.

Here's a health to them that's awa',

Here's a health to them that's awa';

Here's Maitland and Wycombe, and who does na like 'em

We'll build in a hole o' the wa'.

Here's timmer that's red at the heart,

Here's fruit that's sound at the core!

May he that would turn the buff and blue coat

Be turned to the back o' the door.

« PreviousContinue »