And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine),
For the honor of old Bingen,--dear Bingen on the Rhine.

5.
"There's another,--not a sister; in the happy days gone by,
You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye;
Too innocent for coquetry,--too fond for idle scorning,--
O friend! I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning!
Tell her the last night of my life--(for, ere the moon be risen,
My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison),
I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine
On the vine-clad hills of Bingen,--fair Bingen on the Rhine.

6.
"I saw the blue Rhine sweep along: I heard, or seemed to hear,
The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear;
And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill,
The echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and still;
And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed, with friendly talk,
Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk;
And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly in mine,--
But we'll meet no more at Bingen,--loved Bingen all the Rhine."

7.
His trembling voice grew faint and hoarse; his grasp was childish weak,
His eyes put on a dying look,--he sighed and ceased to speak.
His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled,--
The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land was dead!
And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down
On the red sand of the battlefield, with bloody corses strewn;