De music ceased to blay.

Denn crack und smack coom scotterin shots
Troo vindow und troo door,
Boot bang and clang de Germans gife
Anoder volley more.
"Dere - let 'em shlide. Right file to shoorsh!"
Aloudt de orders ran.
"I kess I paid dem for dat shot,"
Shpeak grim der Breitemann.

All rosen red de mornin fair
Shone gaily o'er de hill,
A violet plue de shky crew teep
In rifer, pond, und rill;
All cloudy grey de limeshtone rocks
Coom oop troo dimmerin wood;
All shnowy vite in mornin light
De shoorsh pefore dem shtood.

"Now loudet vell de organ, oop,
To drill mit solemn fear;
Und ring also dat Lumpenglock
To pring de beoples here.
Und if it prings guerillas down,
Ve'll gife dem, py de Lord,
De low-mass of de sabre, and
De high-mass of de cord.[20]

"Du, Eberle aus Freiburg,