A Drinking Song

LOOK — look — this wine is German!

Therefore streams it full and flowing,

Therefore beams it bold and glowing,
Therefore, like a thirsty merman,

Quaff the brilliant cup divine;

Brother, this is German wine!

Fill— fill— a bumper goblet!

Fill it high, and toast our olden

Fatherland, and them, the golden
Maids and men who aye ennoble it!

Fill the purple cup divine;

Brother, this is German wine!

Drink — drink — to Ancient Usage;

May their memory greenly flourish

Who of yore were first to nourish
Flesh and soul with this, and grew sage,

Quaffing such immortal wine.

Drink the Fathers of the Vine!

Toast — toast — the resurrection
Of our country from her torpor!
We have spurned the French Usurper;

Freedom binds us and Affection,
Me with thee, and mine with thine:
Toast our triumph here in wine 1

German worth and German wine,
German speech and German manners,
Be the motto on our banners!

None can tremble, none can pine,

While he drinks of German wine!