BARBAROSSA

Old Barbarossa sleeps there
In castle underground.
A magic spell still keeps there
The emperor spellbound.

Death's call has never biddden
Him leave his house of clay;
But in the castle hidden,
He sleeps the time away.

The riches of his kingdom
He took with him below;
But he will one day bring them,
When he comes back, we know.

He sits (so says the fable)
On chair of ivory made;
Of marble is the table
Whereon his head is laid.

His beard is long and flowing
All of a fiery red;
'Tis through the table growing,
On which he rests his head.

He nods as he were dreaming,
And winks with half-closed eye;
With glance all brightly beaming,
He bids his page draw nigh.

He speaks in sleep thus crying:
"Go to the castle door,
And see if still are flying
The ravens as before.

And if they still are flying -
The old birds round the hill -
Must I in slumber lying
A hundred years be still?"

From Third Music Reader, Luther Whiting Mason, 1880, no attribution

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