Dictes moy — ^in what shpirit land

Ish Clara Lafontaine ?
Or Pomard, or La Frisette,

Who blazed on soosh a train ?
Shveet Echo flings de quesdion pack,

O'er lake or shdreamlet lone ;
All eartly peauty fades afay,

Vhere ish dem lofed ones gone ?



SU HANS BIIEITMANN'3 BALLADS.
Oh, vhere ish Lola Montez now,

So lofed in efeiy land ?
How oft I shmoked dose cigarettes

She roUt mit vairy hand 1
Dat mighdy soul, dat shplendit brick,

A saint's pecrme to be,
I^or mit soosh saints der Breitmann make

His Hagiologie.
Und vhere ish La Pochardinette ?

Ish she too mit de dead ?
She lofed de Latin Quarter mit

A hat und fedder on her het.
Lebe wohl petite Pochardinette !

Qui ne safait refuser,
Ni la ponche a la bleine ferre,

Ni sa pouche a un paiser.
Prince ! dese quesdions all are nix,

I sit here all alone,
Mit von refrain to end de shdrain,

Vhere ish mein lofed vons gone ?
Vhen Marcovitch has cut und run,

TJnd Schneider's off de ving.
Some Cray old reprobate like me

Vill of dese lofed vons sing.
BREITMAITIT IN FORTY-EIGHT



D



ERE woned once a studente,

All in der Stadt Paris,*
Whom jeder der ihn kennte,

Der rowdy Breitmann hiess.
He roosted in de rue La Harpe,

Im Luxembourg Hotel,
'Twas shoost in anno '48,

Dat all dese dings pefel.
Boot he who vouldt go hoontin now

To find dat rue La Harpe,
Moost hafe oongommon shpecdagles,

IJnd look darnation sharp.
For der Kaisar und his Hausmann

Mit hauses made so vree,
Dere roon shoost now a Bouleverse

Vhere dis ehdreet used to pe.
•There 1b a German student's song which begins with this
couplet.
(S15)



S16 HANS BREITMANN'a BALLADS.
