Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Germany: Vols. XVII–XVIII. 1876–79.
The Teutoburger Battle
By Joseph Victor von Scheffel (18261886)W
Into Germany were moving,
First of all,—to flourish partial,—
Rode mid trumpets the field marshal,
Sir Quinctilius Varus.
How the north-wind blew and chorussed;
Ravens flying through the air,
And there was a perfume there
As of blood and corpses.
Out came rushing the Cheruskins,
Howling, “Gott und Vaterland!”
They went in with sword in hand,
Against the Roman legions.
And the cohorts ran like water;
But of all the foe that day,
The horsemen only got away,
Because they were on horseback.
Knowest thou not that such our men are all?
In a swamp he fell,—how shocking!
Lost two boots, a left-hand stocking,
And, besides, was smothered.
Said to Centurion Titiusser,
“Pull your sword out,—never mind,
And bore me through with it behind,
Since the game is busted.”
Fine young fellow,—but imprudent
As a youth of tender years,
Served among the volunteers,—
He was also captured.
For ere they got him to the scaffold
He was stabbed quite unaware,
And nailed fast en derrière
To his Corpus Juris.
Hermann rubbed his hands in clover;
And to do the thing up right,
The Cheruscans did invite
To a first-rate breakfast.
Now, in honor of the story,
A monument they ’ll raise for glory.
As for pedestal,—they ’ve done it;
But who ’ll pay for a statue on it
Heaven alone can tell us.