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Manned from the Odenwald—a dauntless crew Who dream of the blue Rhine, and toast their wives In Schirauz wine, yet, as they gaily quaff, Scoff at the Persian vintage—they have drank Their last, last drop crushed from the topaz grape That gems their native river. We will swell The ocean with our flood, let the wild winds Rave o'er the waters, till the angry waves Lashed into fury, climbing to the clouds, Divide and combat. Mid the deadly crash Of warring elements, the thunders peal, And lightnings fierce illumination, I Shall laugh to see the shattered vessel drive Before the storm, wheel round and round, then sink For ever in the fathomless abyss— There will be music in the dying cry Of one for whom the rest are doomed. Von Karl, Wilt thou remember when the sweeping surge Comes rolling onward, her whom thy false vows Have ruined, soul and body? What doth ail