’Twas here that the flames of the funeral pile Both books and men once swallow’d; The bells rang merrily all the while, And Kyrie Eleison follow’d. Stupidity here and spitefulness Like dogs in the street coquetted; In religious hatred the brood still exists, Though greatly to be regretted, But see, where the moonlight yonder gleams, A form of a monstrous sort is! As black as the devil it rears its head,-- Cologne Cathedral in short ’tis. ’Twas meant a bastile of the spirit to be, And the cunning papists bethought them: “In this prison gigantic shall pine away German intellects, when we have caught them.” Then Luther appear’d, and soon by his mouth A thundering “Halt!” was spoken. Since then the Cathedral no progress has made In building, the charm being broken. It never was finish’d, and this is as well, For its very non-termination A monument makes it of German strength And Protestant reformation. Ye Cathedral-Society’s members vain, With powerless hands have ye risen To continue the work that so long has been stopp’d, And complete the ancient prison. O foolish delusion! In vain will ye shake The money-boxes so bootless, And beg of the Jews and heretics too,-- Your labour is idle and fruitless. In vain will Liszt on behalf of the fund Make concerts all the fashion, And all in vain will a talented king Declaim with impetuous passion. Cologne Cathedral will finish’d be ne’er, Although the Swabian Solons Have sent a shipload full of stones To help it, nolens volens. ’Twill ne’er be completed, despite all the cries Of the ravens and owls without number, Who, full of antiquarian lore, In high church-steeples slumber. Indeed, the time will by-and-by come, When instead of completing it rightly, The inner space as a stable will serve For horses,--a change but unsightly. “And if the cathedral a stable becomes, “Pray tell us how they will then tackle “The three holy kings who rest there now, “Within the tabernacle?” Thus ask they. But why should we, in these days, Stand up as their supporters? The three holy kings from the Eastern land Must find some other quarters. Take my advice, and place them all In those three iron cages That high upon St. Lambert’s tower At Münster have hung for ages. If one of the three should missing be, Select in his stead some other; Replace the king of the Eastern land By some regal Western brother.[45] The king of the tailors[46] sat therein With his two advisers by him; But we will employ the cages now For monarchs who greatly outvie him.