The Saint Paul globe., 1900-06-11
THE BoER AND HIS CHILD.

IN orange state and TranSVaal Land,
The Beers for Freedom take their
For Home and Freedom" Shout their
We'll debut ne'er be Britain's
And into the ranks of the bearded men,
Blond Boys. push forward, now and
Of pure Boer blood and eyes so bright
Despite their youth-they are bound to
oh! Father let me with you ride
Against those Robbers-and at your
You taught me to master the widest
And 70 start the Bullet. true on its
MY Pieter, you are yet scarce thirteen.
Our Youngest, and Mothers Darling,
Who shall protect her when left alone?
Your io,,aI Brothers I6 all to the Front have
Dear Father, do take me with you, I
Sister ;Autte at Home with dear Mother
Her SSkiI1I ii Win the rife, will save them
No Blacks VIII ever modest our old
Farm.
And I'll the ,i Eyes $50 Of the Father gave Proof
Then go mount your horse, and off we
will ride!,
Take leave of your Mother and Sister
and part,
In way. that is maryland don't
break their heart"
And proud little Pieter, in Mothers en-
brace,
Feels warm the tears courslng that
heavenly face;
This Hat with the feather"-says Autje
with joy,
Take with you, dear Pieter-aim well
my good Boy"
The Battle of Elandslaagt ragged on that
And fierce was the Combat, and bloody
And four thousand Britons charged over
the field,
The Battle was over at last and twas
found
bloody ground.
a young British Captain, his aid wished
Came looking for wounded of foe or of
And there in the ranks of the wounded
and dead,
Lay the form of a Giant, who suffered
With a face that was rugged and grim
A Boet Of the Porest Germanic Mould
His breast was pierced, and his breathing
faint
He suffered in silence and made no
complaint
And as the Briton bent over him low,
He caught these words, that came pain
ful ard slow:
my time has come-there's no help for
'Tis. easy to die for Liberty!
But do me this favor-ere all is done;
Oh! stranger, bring me my poor dead
SOM"
HE was but cnild-but he fought like
a mani
Oh! stranger. &c. find him. so pale and
Oh! God! let me see his face once more,
Ere I leave this Earth, for the unknown
''He fought at my side, my brave young
Our Rifles spoke-as If they were one.
I saw him go down-not far from this
spot
At the time when I through the Breast
was shot"
And silent, the Briton looked over the
And there the dead Boy by the Sock
was found.
His Rife was held in his hand so true
And all his Cartridges fired--but two.
He lay as if dreaming. so sweet and mild.
The zeph!Y,Ts pl1!,r played with the locks of
At his side lay his hat, and close to his
And Autje's feather with blood was red.
The Briton scarce could withhold his
He lifted the soldier, 50 young in years,
And placed him in Fathers Embrace
And the old man wept, as he saw his
face.
And the Father lathe looked long on his poor
With his boyish face-so brave and
And he kissed, his lips, so cold and blue,
And pressed the Boy to his heart so
true h
MY Pieter. my Pieter, so young and
We will go together down to our Grave.
Cursed be the Britens-forever and aye!
The Blood of this Boy call for ven-
geance on High
And Death closed his Eyes-but the faith
er still pressed
The form Of his Boy to his now silent
breast
And the slow setting sun threw his Man
tel Ger all:
God bless Free Orange State! God bless
From VoIkszeitung, by Otto Heine.
TRANSLATED by Albert Scheffer).