Drunk for the Country's Sake

God bless you, boys! Come, drink again
Let us this jovial glass fill high!

Pray let me not my country see,

Forsaken and in misery,
Far rather drunk in dreams I'd lie.

For then I dream that once again
At home the voice of cheer I hear,
It seems to me that with each round
Of joyous drink I heal a wound
Thou sufferest from, my country dear.

If it could be while I lie here
My country truly happy were—

You never should, good friends, I say,
Even if I might live for aye,
-Behold me sober more, I swear!