Classic Poem

From Harburg to Hamburg we drove in an hour.
The shades of night were thickening;
The stars of heaven in welcome shone;
The air was soft and quickening.

When I reached my mother's, the dear thing's joy
Was so great and unexpected
She was almost scared; she clasped her hands
In rapture unaffected.

“My child! And after thirteen years
Like this again to meet, dear!
You must be hungry; tell me quick,
What will you have to eat, dear?

“I have fish, cold goose, and oranges
The sweetest you ever tasted.”
“Then give me the oranges, fish, and goose,
I promise they won't be wasted.”

I ate with a will, and my mother was gay,
But alas! I am no romancer;
She asked me this, and she asked me that,
And her questions were hard to answer.

“My darling child, in your foreign home
Are you carefully served and tended?
Does your wife understand how to keep a house?
Are your shirts and stockings mended?”

“Dear little mother, the fish is good,
But fish is a risky diet;
You so easily choke on a bone if you speak;
Just leave me a moment in quiet.”

When the excellent fish had been despatched,
The goose was served up duly,
And my mother began her questions again;
It was awkward to answer truly.

“My darling child! In which country, say,
Has life the greater zest now?
You've tried the French and the German both,
And which do you like the best now?”

“Dear mother, this German goose is superb,
But in France a tradition they follow,
When it comes to the stuffing, that's better than ours,
And in sauces they beat us hollow.”

And after the goose had disappeared
The oranges took their station
Before me in turn, and I found them sweet
Beyond all expectation.

But then my mother began again—
When happy you know how one chatters—
She asked me a thousand things, and touched
On painful and personal matters.

“My child! And what are at present your views?
Is your interest still as hearty
In politics as it used to be?
What is your creed? Your party?”

“Dear little mother, these oranges here
Could certainly not be beaten.
With the greatest enjoyment I suck the juice,
But I leave the rind uneaten.”