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Translated by C. T. Brooks
IN Leipsic’s famous city, | |
| In Leipsic’s castle-hall, | |
| Are seen brave warriors many, | |
| With armor-bearers all. | |
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| In march the Wittenbergers,— | 5 |
| Their bristling halberds see! | |
| They mean, around their master, | |
| A storm-proof wall to be. | |
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| But he—no lance he beareth, | |
| Nor sword nor spear doth wield, | 10 |
| The Word of God ’s his weapon,— | |
| The Spirit is his shield. | |
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| Hark! sounds no blast of trumpets | |
| The signal to the fight? | |
| No! to the holy combat | 15 |
| Sweet organ-tones invite. | |
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| Down on their knees all sinking, | |
| Their manly forms they bow,— | |
| They pray high Heaven to send them | |
| The Holy Spirit now: | 20 |
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| “Come, rest on us, thou worthy, | |
| Thou Holy Spirit of God! | |
| Thou Comforter who teachest | |
| The path his Christ hath trod! | |
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| “O, give us wisdom’s fulness, | 25 |
| And faith’s exalted might, | |
| The truth in love revealing, | |
| That worketh all things right!” | |
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| And now they all have risen,— | |
| The lists wide open fly,— | 30 |
| The herald calls to combat: | |
| Now battle manfully! | |
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| From yonder glittering phalanx | |
| Forth stalks a champion proud, | |
| Of giant frame, and piercing | 35 |
| His voice rings through the crowd:— | |
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| “Who dares with me to battle? | |
| I fling my gauntlet down!”— | |
| One of the Wittenbergers | |
| Has dared to meet his frown. | 40 |
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| They run at one another, | |
| Their swords flash to and fro,— | |
| They cut and thrust and parry, | |
| Loud sounds the sturdy blow. | |
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| Yet neither strikes his foeman | 45 |
| Quite to the ground.—Come, thou, | |
| The Wittenbergers’ master, | |
| Out on the arena now! | |
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| And, like the son of Jesse, | |
| A young monk takes the field; | 50 |
| No lance has he, nor helmet, | |
| He bears no sword nor shield. | |
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| But in his wallet bears he | |
| Full many a goodly stone; | |
| So well he knows to sling them, | 55 |
| They crash through brass and bone. | |
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| He bears his cause so bravely, | |
| He fights so valiantly, | |
| The knights in that assembly | |
| His deeds with terror see! | 60 |
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| The blows they thicken round him, | |
| And clip and clap they fall, | |
| But from his frame as nimbly | |
| They fly off, one and all. | |
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| “The master on his finger | 65 |
| A little ring doth wear, | |
| And holds, by art of magic, | |
| An evil spirit there!” | |
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| Thus, through the knightly circle | |
| Suspicious whispers fly: | 70 |
| “Come out, thou evil spirit! | |
| Out from the ring!” they cry. | |
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| “The master hath a nosegay | |
| He in his hand doth bear, | |
| And holds, by art of magic, | 75 |
| An evil spirit there!” | |
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| “Come out, then, from the nosegay, | |
| Foul fiend!” they cry once more; | |
| The ring, and eke the nosegay, | |
| Are what they were before. | 80 |
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| Now let me say, my masters, | |
| It is not in the ring, | |
| And as to imps in nosegays, | |
| ’T is all a foolish thing. | |
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| Know when the Lord of spirits | 85 |
| His servants aids in fight, | |
| Then needs a noble warrior | |
| No alien spirit’s might. | |
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| The Lord from Heaven ’s the spirit | |
| That lends true strength, and he | 90 |
| Hath to our master given | |
| Courage and victory. | |
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