For a week, when they took you away.
Fond Fancy brought back to my slumbers
Our walks on the Ness and the Den,
And echoed the musical numbers
Which you used to sing to me then.
I know the romance, since it's over,
'Twere idle, or worse, to recall:—
I know you're a terrible rover:
But, Clarence,—you'll come to our Ball!
It's only a year, since at College