Who ate my cake and jam at school;
Who let me copy off their sums,
Then thrashed me ’cause I was a fool.
Oh, would my boyhood could return,
With all its appetite and joys!
Now doughy cake I’m bound to spurn,
And raspberry jam, by potfulls, cloys.
Life is a weariness, in fact;
And could I rid me of its pain,
With Fate I’d make a willing pact,