Burgundy sees their token,
And cries: “Now, God be praised!
Not yet we’re beat or broken,
Since Eckart’s flag is raised.”
Then like a true knight, Eckart
Dash’d gaily through the foe:
But with his red blood flecker’d,
His little son lay low.
And when the fight was ended,
Then Burgundy he speaks:
“Thou hast me well befriended,
Yet so as wets my cheeks.
The foe is smote and flying;
Thou’st saved my land and life;
But here thy boy is lying,
Returns not from the strife.”
Then Eckart wept almost,
The tear stood in his eye;
He clasp’d the son he’d lost,
Close to his breast the boy.
“Why diedst thou, Heinz, so early,
And scarce wast yet a man?
Thou’rt fallen in battle fairly;
For thee I’ll not complain.
Thee, Prince, we have deliver’d;
From danger thou art free:
The boy and I are sever’d;
I give my son to thee.”
Then Burgundy our chief,
His eyes grew moist and dim;
He felt such joy and grief,
So great that love to him.
His heart was melting, flaming,
He fell on Eckart’s breast,
With sobbing voice exclaiming:
“Eckart, my champion best,
Thou stoodst when every other
Had fled from me away;
Therefore thou art my brother
Forever from this day.
