FullReads

O reater! Soopose soosh a vlight in
De vingers of me, or of you,
How we’d toorned on our heels, und gon kitin
Dill no von vos left to pursue!
Good Lort! how we’d froze to de ready!
Boot mit him ‘dvas a different ding;
For he vent on de high, moral steady,
Dis lofer of Fräulein von Sling.

Und dough no von vill gife any gredit
To dis part of mine dale, shdill id’s drue,
He drafelled ash if he vould dead it,
Dis liddle oldt man to pursue.
Und loudly he after him hollers,
Till de vales mit de cliffers loud rang:
“You hafe gifed me nine-ten too moosh dollars,
Hold Hard!” cried der Ritter von Slang.

De oldt man ope his eyes like a casement,
Und laid a cold hand on his prow,
Denn mutter in ootmosdt amazement,
“Vot manner of mordal art dou?
I hafe lifed in dis world a yar tausend,
Und nefer yed met soosh a ding!
Yet you find it hart vork to pe spouse, and
Peloved by de Lady von Sling!

“Und she vant you to roll from de tower
Down shteps to yon rifulet spot.”
(Here de knight, whom amazement o’erbower,
Cried, “Himmels potz pumpen Herr Gott!”)
Boot de oldt veller saidt: “I’ll arrange it,
Let your droples und sorrows co hang!
Und nodings vill coom to derange it-
Pet high on it, Ritter von Slang.

“So get oop dis small oonderstandin,
Dat to-morrow by ten, do you hear?
You’ll pe mit your trunk at de landin;
I’ll also be dere-nefer fear!
Und I dinks we shall make your young voman
A new kind of meloty sing;
Dat vain, wicked, cruel, unhuman,
Gott-tamnaple Fräulein von Sling.”

De fiolet shdars vere apofe him,
Vhite moths und vhite dofes shimmered round,
All nature seemed seekin to lofe him,
Mit perfume und vision und sound.
De liddle oldt veller hat fanished,
In a harp-like, melotious twang;
Und mit him all sorrow vas panished
Afay from der Steinli von Slang.

III.

Id vas morn, und de vorldt hat assempled
Mid panners und lances und dust,
Boot de heart of de Paroness trempled,
Und ofden her folly she cussed.
For she found dat der Ritter vould do it,
Und “die or get into de Ring,”
Und denn she’d pe cerdain to rue it,
Aldough she vas Lady von Sling.

For no man in Deutschland stood higher
Dan he mit de Minnesing crew,
He vas friendet to Heini von Steier,
Und Wolfram von Eschenbach too.
Und she dinked ash she look from de vinders,
How herzlich his braises dey sang;
“Now dey’ll knock my goot name indo flinders,
For killin der Ritter von Slang.”

Boot oh! der goot knight had a Schauer,
Und felt most ongommonly queer,
Vhen he find on de top of de dower
De goblum, pesite him, abbear.
Denn he find he no more could go valkin,
Und shtood, shoost and potrified ding,
Vhile de goblum vent round about talkin,
Und chaffin Plectruda von Sling.

Denn at vonce he see indo de problum,
Und vas stoggered like rats at ids vim:
His soul had gone indo de goblum,
Und de goblum’s hat gone indo him.
Und de eyes of de volk vas enchanted,
Dere vas “glamour” oopon de whole gang;
For dey dinked dat dis veller who ranted
So loose, vas der Ritter von Slang.

Und, Lordt! how he dalked! Oonder heafens
Dere vas nefer soosh derriple witz,
Knockin all dings to sechses and sefens,
Und gifin Plectruda, Dutch fits.
Mein Gott! how he poonished und chaffed her
Like a hell-stingin, devil-born ding;
Vhile de volk lay a-rollin mit laughter
At Fräulein Plectruda von Sling.