Poor soldier of red Austerlitz
, of Leipzig's stern and bloody fray,
of Moscow's bitter frozen way,
so desolate hath come the day
that in a prison cell he sits!

This man that heard the thunder sound
of cannon that all Europe rocked,
in which all Europe's fate was locked,
whose echoes all the nations shocked -
Now left alone, no friends around!

He, who his manhood's bosom bared
near threescore years and ten ago
to battle's stern relentless woe,
whose comrades long have moldered low,
A common felon's cell hath shared!

And this, old man, is your reward?
For this, at threescore years and ten,
you served our country's cause and when
you needed help, we gace you then
Imprisonment? A turnkey guard?

What charge is laid against thy door?
Thy trembling hands with palsy numb,
hath murder stained upon them come?
Doth such a crime pursue thee home?
No! Heaven only made thee poor.

Because of lucre thou hast not
of what avail are all they deeds?
Who cares to know they bitter needs?
While God is served by Mammon's creeds,
Thou mayest like a felon rot.

Columbia! This is thine own son;
His wrongs reproach thee for redress;
He came from far off lands to press
his service in thy sore distress,
be thy decree, "Be justice done!"