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| SIR RIBBECK of Ribbeck in Havelland— | |
| A pear-tree in his yard did stand; | |
| And in the golden autumn-tide, | |
| When pears were shining far and wide, | |
| Sir Ribbeck, when barely the bells had struck noon, | 5 |
| Would stuff both his pockets with pears right soon. | |
| If a boy in clogs would come his way, | |
| He would call: “My boy, have a pear to-day?” | |
| To a girl he’d call: “Little maid over there, | |
| Now come here to me, and I’ll give you a pear!” | 10 |
| And thus he did ever, as years went by, | |
| Till Sir Ribbeck of Ribbeck came to die. | |
| He felt his end coming; ’twas autumn-tide, | |
| And the pears were laughing, far and wide. | |
| Then spoke Sir Ribbeck: “And now I must die. | 15 |
| Lay a pear in my grave, beside me to lie!” | |
| From the double-roofed house, in three days more, | |
| Sir Ribbeck to his grave they bore. | |
| All the peasants and cotters with solemn face | |
| Did sing: “Lord Jesus, in Thy Grace”— | 20 |
| And the children moaned with hearts of lead: | |
| “Who will give us a pear? Now he is dead.” | |
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| Thus moaned the children—that was not good!— | |
| Not knowing old Ribbeck as they should. | |
| Young Ribbeck—alas!—is a miser hard; | 25 |
| Over park and pear-tree he keeps stern guard. | |
| But the old, who this doubtless could foretell, | |
| Distrusting his son—he knew right well | |
| What he was about when he bade them lay | |
| A pear in his grave, on his dying day: | 30 |
| Out of his silent haunt in the third year | |
| A little pear-tree shoot did soon appear. | |
| And many a year now comes and goes, | |
| But a pear-tree on the grave there grows, | |
| And in the golden autumn-tide | 35 |
| The pears are shining far and wide. | |
| When a boy o’er the grave-yard wends his way, | |
| The tree whispers: “Boy, have a pear to-day?” | |
| To a girl it says: “Little maid over there, | |
| Come here to me and I’ll give you a pear!” | 40 |
| So there are blessings still from the hand | |
| Of Sir Ribbeck of Ribbeck in Havelland. | |
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