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AFTER CALVERLEY.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

THERE was a time when I was gay,

Nor shuddered at the thought of fun,

But made, as much as twice a day, A pun.

And loved the dance, and learned to wield

The taper cue with steady nerve,

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Or practised upon Holmes his field The curve.

And rode a bicycle or shell,

No matter which, with equal skill,

And painted, not exactly well Nor ill.

But now, alas! with furrowed brow,

I study in my dismal den,

Nor brush my tumbled hair, save now And then.

With Spanish I and Moral Phil.

I cram by day my aching head, -

At night devour J. S. Mill Instead.

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