Ott Heinrich the Pfalzgrave of Rhine--oh!
Spoke out of a morning; 'Rem blem!
I'm tired of the sour Hock wine--oh!
I'm off for Jerusalem.
'Far lovelier, neater, and nicer
Are the maids there who give you the cup;
Oh, Chancellor! oh, Mueckenhaeuser,
Five thousand gold ducats pack up.'
And as before Joppa they anchored
The Chancellor held up his hand:
'Now drain to the dregs your last tankard,
For the ducats are come to an end.'
Ott Heinrich said, 'Well, and no wonder,--
Rem blem! what remains to be seen!
We'll paddle for Cyprus out yonder,
And make a small raise on the Queen.'
But just as the galley was dancing
By Cyprus, in beautiful night,
A storm o'er the billows came prancing,
With thunder and flashes of light.
In a ghastly wild glare, by the landing,
A black ship came rushing along;
There a ghost in his shirt-sleeves was standing,
And howling a horrible song.