Song, Of One Eleven Years In Prison

I     Whene'er with haggard eyes I view         This dungeon that I'm rotting in,     I think of those companions true     Who studied with me at the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.     [Weeps, and pulls out a blue kerchief, with which he wipes his eyes; gazing tenderly at it, he proceeds]                     II     Sweet kerchief, check'd with heavenly blue,         Which once my love sat knotting in!     Alas! Matilda then was true!         At least I thought so at the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.     [At the repetition of this line he clanks his chains in cadence.]                  III     Barbs! Barbs! alas! how swift you flew,         Her neat post-wagon trotting in!     Ye bore Matilda from my view;         Forlorn I languish'd at the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.                      IV     This faded form! this pallid hue!         This blood my veins is clotting in,     My years are many, they were few         When first I entered at the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.                      V     There first for thee my passion grew,         Sweet, sweet Matilda Pottengen!     Thou wast the daughter of my tu         tor, law professor at the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.                      VI     Sun, moon and thou, vain world, adieu,         That kings and priests are plotting in;     Here doom'd to starve on water gru         el, never shall I see the U             niversity of Gottingen,             niversity of Gottingen.     [During the last stanza he dashes his head repeatedly against the walls of his prison; and, finally, so hard as to produce a visible contusion; he then throws himself on the floor in an agony. The curtain drops; the music still continuing to play till it is wholly fallen.]