| |
| A GERMAN town with gables | |
| Upon a moonlight night— | |
| I know not why I always | |
| Am touched so by the sight. | |
| |
| Into the lamplight yonder | 5 |
| A youth is staring long; | |
| He’s sighing, sobbing, feeling | |
| His first and dearest song. | |
| |
| There sits a youthful mother | |
| And rocks to rest her child; | 10 |
| She’s praying while she rocks him | |
| To sleep with singing mild. | |
| |
| On the moonlit gables linger | |
| An old man’s pensive eyes: | |
| He holds in his hands a Bible | 15 |
| Where a faded nosegay lies. | |
| |
| The twinkling stars are gleaming, | |
| There’s rustling in the trees; | |
| The houses all seem dreaming | |
| In deep and drowsy ease. | 20 |
| |
| The fountain is splashing, flowing, | |
| As always on Simon Square, | |
| The watchman low is blowing | |
| Upon the horn his air. | |
| |
| Oh Germany! I’ve had pleasure | 25 |
| In many a foreign land— | |
| But to thee greatest treasure | |
| Was given by God’s own hand. | |
| |
| Thou living, longing foundest | |
| Thy dreams in deepest peace. | 30 |
| The while thou iron poundest, | |
| Thy songs shall never cease. | |
| |
| Let no one rob thy worship— | |
| Thy worship old and true | |
| Of women, faith and freedom, | 35 |
| And keep it ever new! | |
| |
| Draw from the fount of story | |
| Thy piety of yore, | |
| And strength to fight with glory— | |
| To-day and evermore. | 40 |
| |
