Girls, the Blue and the Crimson know
How a tryst is kept after bedtime bell.
"Hush-sh," you whisper, "be cautious!" Oh,
I have been there,--but I won't tell!
F.R. BATCHELDER.
_Harvard Lampoon._
~Ballade of the Alumna.~
How sadly in these latter days,
In search of memories bitter-sweet,
We tread the once-accustomed ways
With step grown slow, and lagging feet,--
Timed to the pulse's slower beat,--
And climb the stair and reach the floor,
To find--alas! how time is fleet!
Another's name is on the door!
We timid knock, and beg to gaze
On all once ours--are shown a seat,
O irony! In sad amaze
We marvel that it looks so neat,
Recalling how we used to meet
At gruesome hours in days of yore,--
Hours that fate can ne'er repeat:
Another's name is on the door.
Our ready chaff, our wordy frays,
Conviction backed by young conceit,
Have left no echoes; nothing stays
To mark how once we "led the street;"
But others come with youthful heat,
Nor reck of those who came before,
And play their part--their years complete;--
Another's name is on the door.