Of suspended chivalry.
Empty coal-bin, empty pockets,
Empty siphons in a row;
O'er my life a dun cloud gathers, -
I can't see the New York show!
O, the German in Lyceum!
O, the German I've to learn;
Hedged my chances in this quarter,
Vain a Freshman's gas I burn.
Why this spirit meek and lowly,
Why, my soul, so much cast down?
Soon will end these warm Mass meetings;
Think upon the score with Brown.
Ancient College, Alma Mater,
Man would loaf to a degree;
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