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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, June 1912

Ballad Of Past Students

page 61

Ballad Of Past Students.

Bard writing on sheet of paper with quill

Still do the forms pass to and fro,
Still at six does the staircase fill,
Gone are faces I used to know!
Only memories linger still.
Where are the ones that climbed the hill,
Buffetted by the winds that blow—
Seeking learning or time to kill?
Oh, for the days of long ago!

Still we journey to meet the foe
At Eastertide, when winds blow chill;
I somehow find these meetings slow,
And cannot feel the same old thrill.
My distant friends I think of still
(A sentimental thing, I know),
And under-rate the present skill—
Oh, for the days of long ago!

From far Japan or Tobago
(Or some such place by sea or hil)
I sometimes get a line or so,
To show that I'm remembered still.
One writes he feels the winter's chill,
He must be growing old, I trow,
And cooler blood his veins doth fill
Than in the days of long ago.

The scraggy pine-trees crown the hill,
The healthy gorse gleams gold below,
Sure ev'rything doth flourish still
As in the days of long ago.

—A.O.