Praising each his own dominions,
As the fairest of them all,
Sat at Worms four German princes,
Once within the Emperor's hall.

“Glorious”—spoke the Saxon monarch—
“Glorious is that land of mine,
Where the mountains hold the silver
Deep in many a gorgeous mine.”

“See my land with plenty teeming,
Spoke the Elector of the Rhine,
“Golden seeds in all the valleys,
On the hills the glorious vine!”

“Mighty cities, wealthy cloisters,”
Thus outspoke Bavaria's king,
“Make my land the richest kingdom,
By the treasures that they bring!”

Then spoke Everard, the Bearded,
Wurtemberg's belovéd lord,
“Small the cities of my kingdom,—
None my mountains silver-stored.

“Yet it holds a treasure hidden,
Brightest, purest, greatest, best,
I my head can safely pillow
On my poorest subject's breast!”

And the Saxon monarch answered,
And his royal brothers there:
“Everard, thy land is richest,—
Thou the noblest crown doth wear.”