Musa Burschicosa A Book of Songs for Students and University Men. By John Stuart Blackie |
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HERR PHILISTER; OR, WHO IS A PHILISTINE? |
 | Musa Burschicosa |  |
48
HERR PHILISTER; OR, WHO IS A PHILISTINE?
A Philistine, what man is he?
I'll tell without dissembling;
A thing that seems to walk, d'you see,
On eggs with fear and trembling,
And bears his empty head so trig
With powder, tie, peruke, or wig,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
I'll tell without dissembling;
A thing that seems to walk, d'you see,
On eggs with fear and trembling,
And bears his empty head so trig
With powder, tie, peruke, or wig,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
49
When true vine juice from Father Rhine
The hearts of men inflameth,
The draught divine, who with goose wine
In dull potation tameth,
And 'mid the free songs jovial tones
Wry faces makes, and inly groans,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
The hearts of men inflameth,
The draught divine, who with goose wine
In dull potation tameth,
And 'mid the free songs jovial tones
Wry faces makes, and inly groans,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
Who prates and pules of evil days,
And always fears a crisis,
And when bold deeds set hearts a-blaze,
The poor thing criticises;
And every Muse's craft doth curse
That puts no money in his purse,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
And always fears a crisis,
And when bold deeds set hearts a-blaze,
The poor thing criticises;
And every Muse's craft doth curse
That puts no money in his purse,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
The prig who looks on earth and sky
With cold conceited gazing,
As if God to his mighty I
Had let the world for grazing,
And claims that everything of life
Shall straightway dance as he shall fife,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
With cold conceited gazing,
As if God to his mighty I
Had let the world for grazing,
And claims that everything of life
Shall straightway dance as he shall fife,
He is, he is, a Herr Philister;
Him may the Devil burn and blister!
It would have been easy to make words to this song with traits taken directly from the British atmosphere and the nineteenth century; but I thought I should gratify many by giving the original German picture of ‘the Philistine,’ now almost naturalized on English ground. He is a narrow, conventional creature, compounded of the Greek βαναυσος and the English prig. The music, as given in the Appendix, is admirable.
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