Air,—Von Weber's Derniere Pensee.
'S giebt kein schoenres Leben
Als das Raeuberleben
In dem duestern, duestern, duestern Wald.
There's no life is nobbier
Than to be a rob-bier,
In the gloomy, gloomy, gloomy wood.
Always blood a-drinkin',
Killin' folks like winkin',
Little hinfants murderin' all we could.
Comes a carriage glidin',
Or a feller ridin',
Or a tinker travellin' with his cram.
Then each jovial rover
Holloas out, 'Shell over!
For your life we do not care a d—n!'