“William tell, William tell, Take your arrow, grip it well...And then: ‘A contest! Fun for all! '
Let William shoot his famous bow
At distance great and target small
And by so doing he can show
He need not bow nor ever fall
Upon his face before us all
At last a target did unveil
An apple at one hundred yards
Sir William's face grew ghastly pale
He ne'er suspected such dark cards
The apple sat on Walter Tell
The humble son of William Tell
And fixed the arrow for its flight
'No need to shoot! Just simply bow! '
Said lords who thought they'd won the fight
Against Sir William Tell who now
Should slay his only son; but right
Prevails against the darkest night
The arrow flew, but none could tell
If apple pierced or humble son
Until one or the other fell
Determined contest lost or won
The dart flew like a bat from hell
Toward Walter, son of William Tell
The apple split with such a force
No trace of apple could be found
But all the country changed its course
No longer serfs to lords were bound
And freedom rose upon the shores
Because Sir Tell refused the lords
