NEW-YEAR'S EVE.
If you're waking call me early, call me early, Filcher dear,
For I'll keep a morning Chapel upon my last New-year.
My last New-year before I take my Bachelor's Degree,
Then you may sell my crockery-ware, and think no more of me.
To-night I bade good-bye to Smith: he went and left behind
His good old rooms, those dear old rooms, where oft I sweetly dined;
There's a new year coming up, Filcher, but I shall never see
The Freshman's solid breakfast, or the Freshman's heavy tea.
Last May we went to Newmarket: we had a festive day,
With a decentish cold luncheon in a tidy one-horse-shay.
With our lardy-dardy garments we were really "on the spot,"
And Charley Vain came out so grand in a tall white chimney-pot.
There's not a man about the place but doleful Questionists;
I only wish to live until the reading of the Lists.
I wish the hard Examiners would melt and place me high;
I long to be a Wrangler, but I'm sure I don't know why.
Upon this battered table, and within these rooms of mine,
In the early, early morning there'll be many a festive shine;
And the Dean will come and comment on "this most unseemly noise,"
Saying, "Gentlemen, remember, pray, you're now no longer boys."
When the men come up again Filcher, and the Term is at its height,
You'll never see me more in these long gay rooms at night;
When the old dry wines are circling and the claret-cup flows cool,
And the loo is fast and furious with a fiver in the pool.
You'll pack my things up, Filcher, with Mrs. Tester's aid,
You may keep the wine I leave behind, the tea, and marmalade.
I shall not forget you, Filcher, I shall tip you when I pass,
And I'll give you something handsome if I get a second-class.
Good-night, good-night, when I have passed my tripos with success,
And you see me driving off to catch the one o'clock "express;"
Don't let Mrs. Tester hang about beside the porter's lodge,
I ain't a fool, you know, and I can penetrate that dodge.
She'll find my books and papers lying all about the floor,
Let her take 'em, they are hers, I shall never use 'em more;
But tell her, to console her, if she's mourning for my loss.
That she's quite the dirtiest bedmaker, I ever came across.
Good-night: you need not call me till the bell for service rings,
Through practice I am pretty quick at putting on my things;
But I would keep a Chapel upon my last New Year,
So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, Filcher dear.