He touched the keys vigorously, and sang once more, "God save the
Emperor Francis!" and carried away by the melody so simple and yet
so beautiful, the two women and the old footman sang with him the
tender and artless words.

"And now," said Haydn, eagerly, "now, I will write down the melody
on the spot, and then you shall run with it to Councillor von
Swieten. He must add a few verses to it. And then we will have it
copied as often as possible--we will circulate it in the streets,
and sing it in all public places, and if the French really should
come to Vienna, the whole people shall receive them with the
jubilant hymn, 'God save the Emperor Francis!' And God will hear our
song, and He will be touched by our love, and He will lead him back
to us, our good Emperor Francis."

He sat down at his desk, and in youthful haste wrote down the music.
"So," he said then, "take it, Conrad, take it to Herr von Swieten;
tell him it is my imperial hymn. Oh, I believe it will be useful to
the emperor, and therefore I swear that I will play it every day as
long as I live. My first prayer always shall be for the emperor."
[Footnote: Haydn kept his word, and from that time played the hymn
every day. It was even the last piece of music he performed before
his death. On the 26th of May, 1809, he played the hymn three times
in succession. From the piano he had to be carried to his bed, which
he never left again. When Iffland paid him a visit in 1807, Haydn
played the hymn for him. He then remained a few moments before the
instrument--placed his hands on it, and said, in the tone of a
venerable patriarch: "I play this hymn every morning, and in times
of adversity have often derived consolation and courage from it. I
cannot help it--I must play it at least once a day. I feel greatly