Ne’er tolled so sadly where once so gladly
They pealed their merriest old “Yorke,” for thee,
As when they laid thee with those that made thee
Of “broths of boys” that blithest company,
That round the table (while they were able)
Of friendly Frazer held rare revelry.
Eheu, fugaces! Their vacant places,
Like empty tumblers tell of vanished glee,
Of jokes and jokers now stiff as pokers,
Of silent singers, shut-up repartee,