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Translated by C. G. Leland
WHEN the Romans, rashly roving, | |
| Into Germany were moving, | |
| First of all,—to flourish partial,— | |
| Rode mid trumpets the field marshal, | |
| Sir Quinctilius Varus. | 5 |
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| But in the Teutoburgian Forest | |
| How the north-wind blew and chorussed; | |
| Ravens flying through the air, | |
| And there was a perfume there | |
| As of blood and corpses. | 10 |
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| All at once, in sock and buskins | |
| Out came rushing the Cheruskins, | |
| Howling, “Gott und Vaterland!” | |
| They went in with sword in hand, | |
| Against the Roman legions. | 15 |
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| Ah, it was an awful slaughter, | |
| And the cohorts ran like water; | |
| But of all the foe that day, | |
| The horsemen only got away, | |
| Because they were on horseback. | 20 |
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| O Quinctilius! wretched general, | |
| Knowest thou not that such our men are all? | |
| In a swamp he fell,—how shocking! | |
| Lost two boots, a left-hand stocking, | |
| And, besides, was smothered. | 25 |
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| Then, with his temper growing wusser, | |
| Said to Centurion Titiusser, | |
| “Pull your sword out,—never mind, | |
| And bore me through with it behind, | |
| Since the game is busted.” | 30 |
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| Scævola, of law a student, | |
| Fine young fellow,—but imprudent | |
| As a youth of tender years, | |
| Served among the volunteers,— | |
| He was also captured. | 35 |
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| E’en his hoped-for death was baffled, | |
| For ere they got him to the scaffold | |
| He was stabbed quite unaware, | |
| And nailed fast en derrière | |
| To his Corpus Juris. | 40 |
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| When this forest fight was over | |
| Hermann rubbed his hands in clover; | |
| And to do the thing up right, | |
| The Cheruscans did invite | |
| To a first-rate breakfast. * * * * * | 45 |
| Now, in honor of the story, | |
| A monument they ’ll raise for glory. | |
| As for pedestal,—they ’ve done it; | |
| But who ’ll pay for a statue on it | |
| Heaven alone can tell us. | 50 |
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