For us who live in Prussia's landThis one (page 351) dates from 1809, when Napoleon conquered Prussia:
The King is always lord;
We live by law and the bonds of order,
Not like some bickering horde.
Whiten with their scattered bones
Every hollow, every hill;
From what was left by fox and crow
The hungry fish shall eat their fill;
Block the Rhine with their cadavers;
Until, plugged up by so much flesh,
It breaks its banks and surges west
To draw our borderline afresh!