And that is the reason, you see,
Why, as I have the honour to state,
We, who were seventy-two,
Are now only seven or eight.
One took to heretical views,
And one, they inform me, to drink;
Some construct fortunes in trade,
Some starve in professions, I think.
But one way or other, alas!
Through the culpable action of Fate
We, who were seventy-two
Are now shrunken to seven or eight.
So, whether we like it or not,
Let us own there's a bond in the past,
And, since we were playmates at school,
Continue good friends to the last.
The roll-book is closed in the room,
The clackan is gone with the slate,
We, who were seventy-two
Are now only seven or eight.
We shall never, our books on our back,
Trudge off in the morning again,
To the slide at the janitor's door,
[ 90 ]