Prince Emil von Schönaich-Carolath (1852–1908)

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

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;

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

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.

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

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.

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,

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.