Those happy hours are passed away.
Age must not with its peptics play.
Strange qualms within me darkly dwell
Whene’er I hear the Muffin-Bell.
And yet soft memories of old times
Linger about the jangling chimes,
And, like De Rutzen, I’d be tender
To the too noisy Muffin Vendor.
But oh! methinks when I am gone
That tuneless peal will not ring on;