Altdorf is a lovely village along the Reuss.
It has beautiful scenery that is choice.
What nerve these Austrians have in this town.
I think that Hermann Gessler is a clown!
He puts his hat on top of a pole in the town square.
We have to bow before it when we are there.
I and my son Walter would do no such thing.
We were both arrested for defying.
I told them I am not Austrian. I am Swiss.
My son and I will be put to death because of this.
We have one opportunity to escape the dead.
I must shoot an apple off my son’s head.
There is one fact that just about anyone knows:
I am very adept when in comes to handling crossbows.
If I accomplish this feat, we will earn our freedom.
There must be a way to quash this Austrian scum.
Thanks to wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.