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The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1923

II N' est Pas Mort Ton Souvenir

II N' est Pas Mort Ton Souvenir

—From Murger.

No, youth's joy is not passed nor fled,
It liveth on in thought of thee,
And if thou lift the knocker's head
Echoes shall ope heart's court to thee.
It trembles there to hear thy name,
O Muse of Infidelity;
Return that we may break the same
Black bread made sweet with gaiety.

Farewell Musette, we part for aye,
Last love, perdie, is cold and dead;
Our youth a corpse doth buried lie—
Yon calendar its grave stonehead.
Perchance in raking ashes cold
Of sunlight days, it's there it lies,
A memory whose heart will hold
The Key to fallen Paradise.

R.F.F.