The second he covered the pale, dead face,
And turn'd him round and wept apace:
"Ah, there thou art lying on thy death-bier,
And how have I loved thee for many a year!"
The third he lifted once more the veil,
And kissed her upon the lips so pale:
"Thee I loved ever! yet love thee to-day!
And still shall I love thee for aye and for aye!"
That the student is not totally debarred from field-sports either, the number of game dogs that he keeps sufficiently testify. A tract of land lying along the Neckar, between Handschuhsheim and Dossenheim, is assigned to him as his sporting ground; yet he is forbidden by the law, to take any game-dog thither with him. This is probably to prevent damage to the autumnal and winter crops of the peasants; which would otherwise be sorely overrun by men and dogs. This regulation, and the high cultivation of this tract, are the cause that the solitary student, wandering thither with his gun, thinks himself lucky if he returns home with an odd hare or partridge. But he has also frequent admittance to other hunting-grounds which lie in the farms of different citizens. The amusement of fishing does not appear so very attractive to the German as to the Englishman, and one seldom now sees an isolated son of the Muses, who patiently watches the line which is thrown into the Neckar-stream, till a little fish befools itself with the bait. The student loves not that sort of fishing, which according to his German notion, seems at once a phlegmatic and tedious business; and there is a caricature of an Englishman made by the students, which represents him as sitting patiently watching his float so long, that a spider had spun his web in the angle of the rod and line, and had already caught several flies there before the fisherman had hooked a single fin.
Before we quit the summer pleasures of the student, we must say a few words on the Kirchweihs--wakes. The reader must not alarm himself with the fear that we are going to bore him with an essay on church solemnities--we allude only to those popular festivities with which the anniversary of the dedication of a church is celebrated. As is often the case, this feast has lost its original intention; scarcely any one thinks of the meaning of the word, which in the mouth of the ordinary people is corrupted to Kerve. Every little nest, much too poor for the possession of a church, yes, many an individual public house, even, has its particular Kirchweih. By what authority it has usurped this name and holiday, nobody troubles himself to inquire. People are quite contented that, through these Kirchweihen, of which one or more fall out within their reach every Sunday during the summer, they find occasion to dance, drink, and sing. From every city gate then presses forth a motley group; the worthy burger, the Handwerksbursche, the alert young dressmaker, the homely housemaid, all are crowding forward in a promiscuous throng. Amongst them one descries companies of a higher grade, which rejoice themselves in the splendid summer's day.