Yes, every where wide is their
On the armies of Wrong their revenge to requite;
The strength of Oppression they boldly are braving
And at last they will conquer, resistless in might!
Oh, God! what a glorious wreath then appearing
Will blend every leaf in the banner they’re bearing—The
olive of Greece and the shamrock of Erin,
And the oak-bough of Germany, greenest in light!
Freedom and Right!
And many who suffered, are now
The slumber of freemen, borne down by the fight;
While the Twain o’er their graves still a bright watch are keeping,
Whom we bless for their memories—Freedom and Right!
Meanwhile lift your glasses! to those who have striven!
And striving with bold hearts, to misery were driven!
Who fought for the Right and but Wrong then were given!
To Right, the immortal—to Freedom through Right!
Freedom through Right!
[Footnote *: This allusion is to Weidig, who, imprisoned for years at Darmstadt on account of his political principles, finally committed suicide by cutting his throat with the glass of his prison-window.]
A WEEK AMONG THE STUDENTS.
Receiving a letter from my cousin one bright December morning, the idea of visiting him struck me, and so, within an hour, B—— and I were on our way to Heidelberg. It was delightful weather; the air was mild as the early days of spring, the pine forests around wore a softer green, and though the sun was but a hand’s breadth high, even at noon, it was quite warm on the open road. We stopped for the night at Bensheim; the next morning was as dark as a cloudy day in the north can be, wearing a heavy gloom I never saw elsewhere. The wind blew the snow down from the summits upon us, but being warm from walking, we did not heed it. The mountains looked higher than in summer, and the old castles more grim and frowning. From the hard roads and freezing wind, my feet became very sore, and after limping along in excruciating pain for a league or two, I filled my boots with brandy, which deadened the wounds so much, that I was enabled to go on in a kind of trot, which I kept up, only stopping ten minutes to dinner, till we reached Heidelberg.
The same evening there was to be a general commers, or meeting of the societies among the students, and I determined not to omit witnessing one of the most interesting and characteristic features of student-life. So borrowing a cap and coat, I looked the student well enough to pass for one of them, though the former article was somewhat of the Philister form. Baader, a young poet of some note, and president of the “Palatia” Society, having promised to take us there, we met at eight o’clock at an inn frequented by the students, and went to the rendezvous, near the Markt Platz.