Jützi Schultheiss
For seven long years the gift was mine,
I often saw the angels shine
Suddenly down the cloister's dark
Deserted length at night; and oft
At the high mass I seemed to mark
A stranger music, high and soft.
That swam about the heavenly Cup,
And caught our ruder voices up;
And often, nay, indeed at will,
I would lie back and let the still
Cold trance creep over me—and see
Mary and all the Saints flash by,
Till only God was left and I.
The gift of God was mine; I lost
For aye the gift of Pentecost.
Once, so possessed with God, I stood
In prayer within the apple-wood.
When some one softly called my name.
And shattered all my happy mood.
Towards me an ancient Sister came,
"Quick, Jützi, to the hall!" she cried;
And swiftly after her I hied,
And swiftly reached the convent hall.
Now full of struggle and loud with brawl
For twenty roistering knights-at-arms
All bound for Zurich's tournament,
Had craved at noon the convent's alms,
And though we fasted, it being Lent,
No less we gave them food enew.
In the great barn without the gate—
Because they were so rough a crew—
Yet, having feasted long and late.
They stormed at last the postern door
And sacked the buttery for more;
Then one cried "Nassau!" Straightway one,
"Hapsburg!" The battle was begun.
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