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| IN Steyermark,—green Steyermark, | |
| The fields are bright and the forests dark,— | |
| Bright with the maids that bind the sheaves, | |
| Dark with the arches of whispering leaves! | |
| Voices and streams and sweet bells chime | 5 |
| Over the land, in the harvest-time, | |
| And the blithest songs of the finch and lark | |
| Are heard in the orchards of Steyermark. | |
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| In Steyermark,—old Steyermark, | |
| The mountain summits are white and stark; | 10 |
| The rough winds furrow their trackless snow, | |
| But the mirrors of crystal are smooth below; | |
| The stormy Danube clasps the wave | |
| That downward sweeps with the Drave and Save, | |
| And the Euxine is whitened with many a bark, | 15 |
| Freighted with ores of Steyermark! | |
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| In Steyermark,—rough Steyermark, | |
| The anvils ring from dawn till dark; | |
| The molten streams of the furnace glare, | |
| Blurring with crimson the midnight air; | 20 |
| The lusty voices of forgemen chord, | |
| Chanting the ballad of Siegfried’s Sword, | |
| While the hammers swung by their arms so stark | |
| Strike to the music of Steyermark! | |
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| In Steyermark,—dear Steyermark, | 25 |
| Each heart is light as the morning lark; | |
| There men are framed in the manly mould | |
| Of their stalwart sires, of the times of old, | |
| And the sunny blue of the Styrian sky | |
| Grows soft in the timid maiden’s eye, | 30 |
| When love descends with the twilight dark, | |
| In the beechen groves of Steyermark. | |
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