But he called upon a Boston girl one night,
With a necktie ready-made, which wasn't right;
And she looked at him, this maid did,
And he faded, and he faded,
And he faded, and he faded out of sight.
_The Tech_.
~Her Present.~
He had hinted at diamonds, a fan by Watteau,
A fine water spaniel,--so great was his zeal,--
A chatelaine watch, or a full set of Poe,
And then at the end sent a padded _Lucile_.
F.
_Harvard Lampoon_.
~On the Weather.~
The sultry stillness of a summer's day
Oppresses every sense. The droning bees
Alone the silence break, and restless play
The shadows of the gently swaying trees.
The very ripples in the stream are still,
Save now and then a low and gentle swash,
All which doth try me sore against my will--
So hot! And all my ducks are in the wash.
FERRIS GREENSLET.
_Wesleyan Literary Monthly_.
~Tom's Philosophy.~
The bridges mingle with the river,
And the river with the ocean;
The lights of Boston mix forever
With a jagged motion;
Not a lamp-post near looks single;
All things, when in town I dine,
With weird, uncanny phantoms mingle,
Why not I with wine?
See the house-tops fall from heaven!
And that chimney hit the other--
A college man would be forgiven
If home he'd help a brother.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91