Classic Poem

No prince is so supremely first,
No king so high a stand can take,
That if the land for freedom thirst,
Unaided he that thirst can slake.
He cannot in his single hand
Of Justice such a store possess,
As to distribute to the land
Just what shall please him—more or less.

Though from the throne sweet Mercy flows,
Yet Justice is a common good,
In every son of earth it glows,
It runs in every vein like blood.
And when for freedom heroes strive
And faithfully join hand in hand,
Then justice proves itself alive—
A Charter makes it surely stand.

A Charter! hence, to bless the land,
Proceeds the frame of righteous laws,
Uniting by its holy band
The prince's with the people's cause.
Though in a palace one be born
And rest in gilded cradle find,
Not unto him is fealty sworn
Till lies The Charter sealed and signed.

For this we strove, and still contend,
Yet is not all as yet attained;
The wreath that crowns a prosp'rous end
Ye have not yet, ye warriors, gained.
No! as an ensign, wounded sore,
His standard keeps 'mid hottest fight,
So, worn with toil yet daring more,
Ye view your well-defended Right.

No herald will your triumph shew
With roll of drum and trumpet's blare,
Yet will this hope take root and grow
In German acres everywhere:—
“That wisdom ne'er shall bury Right,
Nor wealth set honest claims aside,
But every honest Suabian wight
Shall find his Charter ratified.”