Boot oh, his heart burned vild mit fire, His eyes gefilled mit tears, At de gotts in efery bilder saal, Mit goats' legs, tails, und ears. Und he sopped - "Ach liebes Deutschland, Bist here on every hand? Was machst du Mephistopheles So weit im Walschen Land?" Boot de wood-nymphs boorst out laughin, Der Garten-gott dere to, Und sait - "Oldt Hans! vile you're apout Ve nefer can look blue." Den Pan blay on his Syrinx, To de tune of Mary Blane, "Don't gry pecause ve're out of town, Ve're coming pack again. "Von day you got de yolk und vhite, De next day only shells; Von day dey holts a council, Und de next day - 'someding else!' Id's bopes und kings, und gotts and dings, Oopon dis eartly ball; Boot for me id's all von frolic, Und a high oldt carnival! "Rise oop, dou Odin-trafeler, Und toorn dee to de Nort, Wherefrom, as Bible dells dee, Crate efil shall come fort. Dere is mutterins in Ravenna, Und ere long dere'll come a turn, A real hell-bender from de land Of Dieterich von Bern. "Und ven der Breitmann's prototype, Der Fictoor Manuel, Cooms tromplin, tromplin troo de fern, To give dis coontry hell. Und ven in La Comarca, Der is shtorm all in de air, Dy Gotts vill gife dee vork, mein Sohn, Hans Breitmann shall be dere!" For a yar will nod be ofer Pefore de Frantsch will run, Und de game at last be ented, Und Italy pe won. Und denn in roarin battle, For hishtory so grand, Dy banner'll lead de Uhlan spears, All in de Frankenland. ----- Nota bene. - Dis boem was all written in 1869, pefore de wars; und all de dings prophezeit in it coomed to bass. Herein der Herr Breitmann abbears ash a Seher or Prophet so crate as de cratest ash nefer vas. Der crate ardist, Mishter W. W. Story, for whom dis lied vas written, can proof all dis. FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER. [Redaktor.] LA SCALA SANTA. "Robusti sono i fatti." - Discorso del Terremoto, del S. Alessandro Sardo. Venetia, A.D. 1586. IN San Gianni Lateran, Dey've cot a flight of shdairs, More woonderful ash nefer vas, As Latin pooks declares. For you kits your sins forgifen, If you glimes dem knee py knee; It's such a gitten up a stairs, I nefer yet did see. Now as Breitmann vas a vaitin Among some demi reps, Ascensionem expectans, To see dem glime de steps, Dere came a sinful scoffer, Who his mind had firmly set To go dem holy sdairs afoot, Und do it on a bet! Boot shoost as he vas startet, To make dis sassy go, Der Breitmann caught him py de neck, Und tripped him off his toe! Und den dere come de skience, A la prenez gardez vous; For he bung his eye and bust his shell, Und shplit his noshe in dwo.