The Death of Hofer

AT Mantua long had lain in chains
The gallant Hofer bound;
But now his day of doom was come —
At morn the deep roll of the drum
Resounded o'er the soldiered plains.
O Heaven! with what a deed of dole
The hundred thousand wrongs were crowned
Of trodden-down Tyrol I

With iron-fettered arms and hands
The hero moved along.
His heart was calm, his eye was clear —
Death was for traitor slaves to fear!
He oft amid his mountain bands,
Where Inn's dark wintry waters roll,
Had faced it with his battle-song,
The Sandwirth of Tyrol.

Anon he passed the fortress-wall,
And heard the wail that broke
From many a brother thrall within.
"Farewell!" he cried. " Soon may you win
Your liberty! GOD shield you all!
Lament not me! I see my goal.
Lament the land that wears the yoke,
Your laud and mine, Tyrol!"

So through the files of musqueteers
Undauntedly he passed,
And stood within the hollow square.
Well might he glance around him there,
And proudly think on by-gone years!
Amid such serfs Ms bannerol,
Thank GOD! had never braved the blast
On thy green hills, Tyrol!

They bade him kneel; but he with all
A patriot's truth replied —
u I kneel alone to God on high —
As thus I stand so dare I die,
As oft I fought so let me fall!
Farewell" — his breast a moment swoll
With agony he strove to hide —
"My Kaiser and Tyrol!"

No more emotion he betrayed.
Again he bade farewell
To Francis and the faithful men
Who girt his throne. His hands were then
Unbound for prayer, and thus he prayed: —
"Goo of the Free, receive my soul!
And you, slaves, Fire!" So bravely fell
Thy foremost man, Tyrol!