Zigzag Journeys in Northern Lands Part 38

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of eight, good sirs, has struck.

Eight souls alone from death were kept, When G.o.d the earth with deluge swept: Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of nine, good sirs, has struck.

Nine lepers cleansed returned not;-- Be not thy blessings, man, forgot!

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of ten, good sirs, has struck.

Ten precepts show G.o.d's holy will;-- Oh, may we prove obedient still!

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour eleven, good sirs, has struck.

Eleven apostles remained true;-- May we be like that faithful few!

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of twelve, good sirs, has struck.

Twelve is of Time the boundary;-- Man, think upon eternity!

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of one, good sirs, has struck.

One G.o.d alone reigns over all; Nought can without his will befall: Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of two, good sirs, has struck.

Two ways to walk has man been given: Teach me the right,--the path to heaven!

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of three, good sirs, has struck.

Three G.o.ds in one, exalted most, The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Unless the Lord to guard us deign, Man wakes and watches all in vain.

Lord! through thine all-prevailing might, Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!

Hark, while I sing! our village clock The hour of four, good sirs, has struck.

Four seasons crown the farmer's care;-- Thy heart with equal toil prepare!

Up, up! awake, nor slumber on!

The morn approaches, night is gone!

Thank G.o.d, who by his power and might Has watched and kept us through this night!

The Cla.s.s devoted an autumn evening to singing the songs of the Rhine; the "Watch on the Rhine," the "Loreley," the student-songs, folk-songs, and some of the chorals of Luther. The song that proved most inspiring was the "Wild Chase of Lutzow." Master Beal awakened a deep interest in this song before it was sung, by relating its history.

"THE WILD HUNT OF LuTZOW."

All musical ears are familiar with the refrain: "Yes, 'tis the hunt of Lutzow the free and the bold,"--if not with these exact words, with other words of the same meaning. The music of C. M. Von Weber has carried the "hunt" of Lutzow over the world. The song and music alike catch the spirit and the movement of a corps of cavalry bent on the destruction of an enemy. One sees the flying hors.e.m.e.n in the poem, and hears them in the music. It was one of the few martial compositions that starts one to one's feet, and stirs one's blood with the memory of heroic achievements.

I will give you one of the most vigorous translations. Longfellow has adopted it in his "Poems of Places." It catches the spirit of the original, and very nearly reproduces the original thought.

LuTZOW'S WILD CHASE.

What gleams from yon wood in the bright suns.h.i.+ne?

Hark! nearer and nearer 'tis sounding; It hurries along, black line upon line, And the shrill-voiced horns in the wild chase join, The soul with dark horror confounding: And if the black troopers' name you'd know, 'Tis Lutzow's wild Jager,--a-hunting they go!

[Ill.u.s.tration: MAYENCE IN THE OLDEN TIME.]

From hill to hill, through the dark wood they hie, And warrior to warrior is calling; Behind the thick bushes in ambush they lie, The rifle is heard, and the loud war-cry, In rows the Frank minions are falling: And if the black troopers' name you'd know, 'Tis Lutzow's wild Jager,--a-hunting they go!

Where the bright grapes glow, and the Rhine rolls wide, He weened they would follow him never; But the pursuit came like the storm in its pride, With sinewy arms they parted the tide, And reached the far sh.o.r.e of the river; And if the dark swimmers' name you'd know, 'Tis Lutzow's wild Jager,--a-hunting they go!

How roars in the valley the angry fight; Hark! how the keen swords are clas.h.i.+ng!

High-hearted Ritter are fighting the fight, The spark of Freedom awakens bright, And in crimson flames it is flas.h.i.+ng: And if the dark Ritters' name you'd know, 'Tis Lutzow's wild Jager,--a-hunting they go!

Who gurgle in death, 'mid the groans of the foe, No more the bright sunlight seeing?

The writhings of death on their face they show, But no terror the hearts of the freemen know.

For the Franzmen are routed and fleeing; And if the dark heroes' name you'd know, 'Tis Lutzow's wild Jager,--a-hunting they go!

The chase of the German, the chase of the free, In hounding the tyrant we strained it!

Ye friends, that love us, look up with glee!

The night is scattered, the dawn we see, Though we with our life-blood have gained it!

And from sire to son the tale shall go: 'Twas Lutzow's wild Jager that routed the foe!

Lutzow, the cavalry hero of Prussia, in the German war for freedom against the rule of Napoleon, was born in 1782. He was a famous hunter, and when Europe arose against Bonaparte in 1813, he called for volunteers of adventurous spirit for cavalry service: "hunters"

of the enemy, who should hang about the French army, and, with the destructive vigilance of birds or beasts of prey, give the enemy no rest on the German side of the Rhine.

The boldest young men of Germany rushed to Lutzow; n.o.blemen, students, foresters. His corps of cavalry became the terror of the French army. The enemy could never tell where they would be found.

Among the young volunteers was Korner, the young German poet. He was a slender young man; but he had an heroic soul, and the cavalry corps of the fiery Lutzow seemed to him the place for it. He joined the "wild hunters" in 1813.

"Germany rises," he said. "The Prussian eagle beats her wings; there is hope of freedom.

"I know what happiness can fruit for me in life; I know that the star of fortune s.h.i.+nes upon me; but a mighty feeling and conviction animates me: no sacrifice can be too great for my country's freedom!"

The words glow.

He added,--

"I must forth,--I must oppose my breast to the storm. Can I celebrate the deeds of others in song, and not dare with them the danger?"

Korner's battle-songs became firebrands. He consecrated himself to his country in the village church near Zobten. He wrote the battle-hymn for the occasion, which was a service for the departing volunteers.

"We swore," he said, "the oath of fidelity to our cause. I fell upon my knees and implored G.o.d's blessing. The oath was repeated by all, and the officers swore it on their swords. Then Martin Luther's 'A Mighty Fortress is our G.o.d' concluded the ceremony."

He wrote a thrilling war-song on the morning of the battle of Danneberg, May 12, 1813. It ended with these words:--