That head close-cropped as bowl or cannon-ball,
The snub-nose and the smirk of a mustache,
The puffy cheek, seamed with a villain gash
Got in a duel with a corporal,
That speckled vest, the ring upon the small
Left finger, where the ruby used to flash,
That air of " ladies-I-possess-the-cash, "
That tone of " gentlemen-I-know-it-all " —

My long lost enemy! — O how we'd glare
Across the table in the dear old days,
When cherries ripened in the German air,
And through the window shone the summer haze,
While Fraeulein Emmi sat between us there
And served demurely Leberwurst and Kaes '.