On the water, at Katzbach, his oath was in trim: 
     He taught in a moment the Frenchmen to swim. 
     Farewell, Frenchmen; fly to the Baltic to save! 
     You mob without breeches, catch whales for your grave. 
     And here are the Germans:  juchheirassassa! 
     The Germans are joyful:  they’re shouting hurrah!

     At Wartburg, on the Elbe, how he cleared him a path! 
     Neither fortress nor town barred the French from his wrath;
     Like hares o’er the field they all scuttled away,
     While behind them the hero rang out his Huzza! 
     And here are the Germans:  juchheirassassa! 
     The Germans are joyful:  they’re shouting hurrah!

     At Leipzig—­O glorious fight on the plain!—­
     French luck and French might strove against him in vain;
     There beaten and stiff lay the foe in their blood,
     And there dear old Bluecher a field-marshal stood. 
     And here are the Germans:  juchheirassassa! 
     The Germans are joyful:  they’re shouting hurrah!

     Then sound, blaring trumpets!  Hussars, charge once more! 
     Ride, field-marshal, ride like the wind in the roar! 
     To the Rhine, over Rhine, in your triumph advance! 
     Brave sword of our country, right on into France! 
     And here are the Germans:  juchheirassassa! 
     The Germans are joyful; they’re shouting hurrah!

PATRIOTIC SONG

God, who gave iron, purposed ne’er
That man should be a slave: 
Therefore the sabre, sword, and spear
In his right hand He gave. 
Therefore He gave him fiery mood,
Fierce speech, and free-born breath,
That he might fearlessly the feud
Maintain through life and death.

Therefore will we what God did say,
With honest truth, maintain,
And ne’er a fellow-creature slay,
A tyrant’s pay to gain! 
But he shall fall by stroke of brand
Who fights for sin and shame,
And not inherit German land
With men of German name.

O Germany, bright fatherland! 
O German love, so true! 
Thou sacred land, thou beauteous land,
We swear to thee anew! 
Outlawed, each knave and coward shall
The crow and raven feed;
But we will to the battle all—­
Revenge shall be our meed.

Flash forth, flash forth, whatever can,
To bright and flaming life! 
Now all ye Germans, man for man,
Forth to the holy strife! 
Your hands lift upward to the sky—­
Your heart shall upward soar—­
And man for man, let each one cry,
Our slavery is o’er!

Let sound, let sound, whatever can,
Trumpet and fife and drum,
This day our sabres, man for man,
To stain with blood we come;
With hangman’s and with Frenchmen’s blood,
O glorious day of ire,
That to all Germans soundeth good—­
Day of our great desire!

Let wave, let wave, whatever can,
Standard and banner wave! 
Here will we purpose, man for man,
To grace a hero’s grave. 
Advance, ye brave ranks, hardily—­
Your banners wave on high;
We’ll gain us freedom’s victory,
Or freedom’s death we’ll die!