Or battling over the boiling deep.
Seek not to pierce the morrow's haze,
But for the moment render praise;
Nor spurn the dance, nor love's sweet passion,
Ere age draws on with its joyless days.
Now should the campus be your joy,
And whispered loves your lips employ,
What time the twilight shadows gather,
And tryst you keep with the maiden coy.
From near-by nook her laugh makes plain