Classic Poem

At Strassburg in the fort
All woe began for me:
The Alpine bugle's call enticed me o'er,
I had to swim to my dear country's shore;
That should not be.

One hour 'twas in the night,
They took me in my plight,
And led me straightway to the captain's door.
O God, they caught me in the stream — what more?
Now all is o'er.

Tomorrow morn at ten
The regiment I'll have to face;
They'll lead me there to beg for grace.
I'll have my just reward, I know.
It must be so.

Ye brothers, all ye men,
Ye'll never see me here again;
The shepherd boy, I say, began it all,
And I accuse the Alpine bugle-call
Of this my fall.

I pray ye, brothers three,
Come on and shoot at me;
Fear not my tender life to hurt,
Shoot on and let the red blood spurt —
Come on, I say!

O Lord of heaven, on high!
Take my poor erring soul
Unto its heavenly goal;
There let it stay forever —
Forget me never!