Or to put it in two stanzas of his, written on a visit to the Valhalla, or Hall of German Worthies, at Regensburg:-- I salute thee, sacred Hall, Chronicle of German glory! I salute ye, heroes all Of the new time and the hoary! Patriot heroes, from your sleep Into being could ye pass! No, a king would rather keep Patriots in stone and brass. The Danish sea-songs, like those of the English, are far better than the land-songs of the soldiers: but here is one with a true and temperate sentiment, which the present war will readily help us to appreciate. It is found in a book of Danish popular songs. [17] [Footnote 17: _Sange til Brug før blandede Selskaber_, samlade af FREDERIK SCHALDEMOSE. 1816. Songs for Use in Social Meetings, etc.] (_Herlig er Krigerens Faerd_.) Good is the soldier's trade, For envy well made: The lightning-blade Over force-men he swingeth; A loved one shall prize The honor he bringeth; Is there a duty? That's soldier's booty,-- To have it he dies. True for his king and land The Northman will stand; An oath is a band,-- He never can rend it; The dear coast, 't is right A son should defend it; For battle he burneth, Death's smile he returneth, And bleeds with delight. Scars well set off his face,-- Each one is a grace; His profit they trace,-- No labor shines brighter: A wreath is the scar On the brow of a fighter; His maid thinks him fairer, His ornament rarer Than coat with a star. Reaches the king his hand, That makes his soul grand, And fast loyal band Round his heart it is slinging; From Fatherland's good The motion was springing: His deeds so requited, Is gratefully lighted A man's highest mood. Bravery's holy fire, Beam nobler and higher, And light our desire A path out of madness! By courage and deed We conquer peace-gladness: We suffer for that thing, We strike but for that thing, And gladly we bleed. But our material threatens the space we have at command. Four more specimens must suffice for the present. They are all favorite soldier-songs. The first is by Chamisso, known popularly as the author of "Peter Schlemihl's Shadow," and depicts the mood of a soldier who has been detailed to assist in a military execution:-- The muffled drums to our marching play. How distant the spot, and how long the way! Oh, were I at rest, and the bitterness through! Methinks it will break my heart in two! Him only I loved of all below,-- Him only who yet to death must go; At the rolling music we parade, And of me too, me, the choice is made! Once more, and the last, he looks upon The cheering light of heaven's sun; But now his eyes they are binding tight: God grant to him rest and other light! Nine muskets are lifted to the eye, Eight bullets have gone whistling by; They trembled all with comrades' smart,-- But I--I hit him in his heart! The next is by Von Holtei:-- THE VETERAN TO HIS CLOAK.