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Show "To those who say there will be no food in Germany, I reply, I will be in Paris in April." Von Hindenberg. The following poem, an answer written by an Indian, is the reply: Oh, foolish to risk that prophecy. Art thou a God from some Olympian height? i To say "In April I'll in Paris be, Borne on the conquering sabres cf my might." I It may 'ere April comes again . That Death may beacken, as he some I day must, To make thy foolish boasting all in vain ; And thy poor tongue lie silent in the dust.. , Thou shalt be, Boaster, where the : Fates decree, . Nor thou, nor I, can their commands i fortell. Thy heavy body food for worms may be, Thy spirit clamoring at the gates of hell. If thou should'st be in Paris in the spring Thou'lt reap no martial triumph for thy pain. The jingling music of thy march shall ring Not from thy scabbard, but from thy captive chains. L'Envoy. Send on thy legions, Lord of blood and might. Our sorried ranks against the firm shall stand, Until we prove that God defends the right, j And peace shall come to bless our j glorious land. 1 |