"Still as clear as on his last day, Do I see him at the shooting Festival at Laufenburg. His mustache was fiercely twisted, Bright and glistening was his trumpet, And his riding-boots were shining Like a mirror; I was chuckling. ''Tis a point of honour,' said he. 'I must all these Swiss astonish With myself and with my trumpet.' "Clear and cheerful rang out yonder Bugle-horns and trumpets; but as O'er the choir of forest singers Sounds the nightingale's sweet warbling, So above all rang out loudly Rassmann's wondrous trumpet-blowing. When we met, his cheeks were scarlet, And fatigued appeared his breathing. ''Tis a point of honour,' said he; And blew on still. Then were silenced All the trumpeters from Frickthal, Those from Solothurn and Aarau, By the trumpeter great Rassmann. Once again we met, 'twas evening. In the 'Golden Swan' he sat then; Like a giant 'mid the pigmies Looked he in this crowd of players. Many were the goblets emptied By the trumpeters from Frickthal, And from Solothurn and Aarau, But the most capacious goblet Was drank out by my brave Rassmann. And with fiery Castelberger, Which grows on the Aar by Schinznach, He at last filled up his trumpet. ''Tis a point of honour,' said he; Drank it out at one long swallow. 'To your health my worthy colleagues! Thus drinks trumpet-blower Rassmann.' Midnight had already passed by, Under tables lay some snoring, But with steady step and upright Started Rassmann from the tavern. On the Rhine with mocking humour He poured forth a roguish tune yet, Then a misstep! Poor, poor Rassmann! Straight he fell into the river, And the Rhine's tremendous whirlpool Thundered foaming and engulfed him, Him the bravest trumpet-blower. Ha! that was a noble blowing! Rassmann, wherefore didst thou die?" Deeply moved the Baron told this; Then continued after pausing: "My young friend, and think, last evening On the Rhine a trumpet rang out Like a greeting from his spirit, And a tune I heard performed there, Such a wilderness of sounds, and Played in Rassmann's finest manner. If we only had that trumpet, Then the gap would be filled up well. And once more I'd lead a full band, As it were to frays of music. Therefore hear now my proposal: Stay with us here in my castle. Paralysed is now the music In the forest-city, blow then New life into her old bones." Thoughtfully spoke then young Werner: "Noble lord, you do me honour, But I nourish a misgiving. Slim and straight have I thus grown up, Have not learnt the art of bending My proud back in any service."