MY heart, my heart is heavy, <br />Though merrily blooms the May; <br />Out on the ancient bastion, <br />Under the lindens I stay. <br />There stands by yon gray old tower, <br />The sentry-house of the town; <br />A red clad peasant soldier <br />Goes pacing up and down. <br />He toys with his shining musket, <br />That gleams in the sunset red, <br />Presenting and shouldering arms now,— <br />I wish he would shoot me dead!<br /><br />Emma Lazarus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-from-heine-2/
