Breitmann in Maryland
Der Breitmann mit his gompany Rode out in Marylandt. Deres nix to trink in dis countrie; ine droats as dry as sand. Its light canteen und haversack, Its hoonger mixed mit doorst; Und if ve had some lager beer Id trink oontil I boorst. Gling, glang, gloria! Ved trink oontil ve boorst. Herr Leutnant, take a dozen men, Und ride dis land around! Herr Feldwebel, go foragin Dill somedings goot is found. Gotts-donder! men, go ploonder! Ve hafnt trinked a bit Dis fourdeen hours! If I had beer Id sauf oontil I shplit! Gling, glang, gloria! Ved sauf oontil ve shplit! At mitternacht a horses hoofs Coom rattlin droo de camp; Rouse dere! coom rouse der house dere! Herr Copitain ve moost tromp! De scouds have found a repel town, Mit repel davern near, A repel keller in de cround, Mit repel lager beer!! Gling, glang, gloria! All fool of lager beer! Gottsdonnerkreuzschockschwerenoth! How Breitmann broked de bush! O let me see dat lager beer! O let me at him rush! Und is mein sabre sharp und true, Und is mein var-horse goot? To get one quart of lager beer Id shpill a sea of ploot. Gling, glang, gloria! Id shpill a sea of ploot. Fuenf hoonderd repels hold de down, One hoonderd strong are ve; Who gares a tam for all de odds Vhen men so dirsty pe. And in dey smashed and down dey crashed, Like donder-polts dey fly, Rash fort as der vild yger cooms Mit blitzen droo de shky. Gling, glang, gloria! Like blitzen droo de shky. How flewed to rite, how flewed to left De moundains, drees, und hedge; How left und rite de yger corps Vent donderin droo de pridge. Und splash und splosh dey ford de shtream Vhere not some pridges pe: All dripplin in de moondlight peam Stracks vent de Cavallrie. Gling, glang, gloria! Der Breitmanns cavallrie. Und hoory, hoory, on dey rote, Oonheedin vet or try; Und horse und rider shnort and blowed Und shparklin bepples fly. Ropp! Ropp! I shmell de parley-prew! Deres somedings goot ish near. Ropp! Ropp! I scent de kneiperei; Veve got to lager beer! Gling, glang, gloria! Veve got to lager beer! Hei! how de carpine pullets klinged Oopon de helmets hart! Oh, Breitmann how dy sabre ringed; Du alter Knasterbart! De contrapands dey sing for shoy To see de rebs go down, Und hear der Breitmann grimly gry: Hoorah! veve dook de down. Gling, glang, gloria! Victoria, victoria! De Dootch have dook de down. Mid shout and crash and sabre flash, And vild husaren shout De Dootchmen boorst de keller in, Und rolled de lager out; Und in de coorlin powder shmoke, Vhile shtill de pullets sung, Dere shtood der Breitmann, axe in hand, A knockin out de boong. Gling, glang, gloria! Victoria! Encoria! De shpicket beats de boong. Gotts! vot a shpree der Breitmann had Vhile yet his hand was red, A trinkin lager from his poots Among de repel tead. Tvas dus dey vent at mitternight Along der moundain side; Tvas dus dey help make history! Dis vas der Breitmanns ride. Gling, glang, gloria! Victoria! Victoria! Cervisia, encoria! De treadful mitnight ride Of Breitmanns vild Freischarlinger, All famous, broad, und vide.
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"Der Breitmann mit his gompany..."
"Breitmann in Maryland" is a quintessential example of Charles G. Leland's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...