Shall I for fame and freedom stand then; For Burschen weal the sword lift free? Quick blinks the steel in my right hand then, A friend will stand and second me. To him I say, Mon cher ami, Before a glass Crambambuli. It grieves me sore, ye foolish-hearted, That ye love not, and drink not wine; To asses are ye now converted, And might be angels all divine. Drink water like the cattle free, And think it is Crambambuli. Crambambuli, it still shall cheer me, When every other joy is past, When o'er the glass Friend Death draws near me, And mars my pleasure at the last. I'll drink with him in companié The last glass of Crambambulli. Then who 'gainst us, Crambambulisten, His spiteful mouth with envy screws, We hold him for no kind of Christian, Since he God's blessings doth abuse. I'd give him, though for life cried he, No single drop Crambambuli. * * * During the singing the rum has burnt out, and the beverage, of a syrupy consistence, is ladled into the glasses. At eleven o'clock at night, which is the hour of the police, the kneips are closed. For some years it has been the practice in Heidelberg that a bell should be rung at this hour, which should be the signal for all landlords to close their houses. At first this order received much opposition from the students, and they endeavoured to make it ridiculous. As the order was, that at eleven the bells should be rung, on its first appearance in the Heidelberg wochenblatt (newspaper), at this hour all the dogs of the students ran about the city with bells hung to their necks, and their masters, to fulfil the order to the letter, began, to the terror and amaze of the inhabitants, to set all the bells of the private houses in full swing. CHAPTER XVIII. NEW YEAR'S EVE. The year's last hour retreating, Peals out with solemn sound; Drink brothers! your last greeting, And wish him blessings round. 'Tis gone! with gray years blended, That are for ever ended. It brought much gladness, many woes, And leaves us nearer to our close. _Voss_.