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.]