Freshman’s Term
RETURN again, thou Freshman’s year,When bloom was on the rye,When breakfast came with bottled beer,When Pleasure walked the High;When Torpid Bumps were more by farTo every opening mindThan Trade, or Shares, or Peace, or War,To senior humankind;When ribbons of outrageous huesWere worn with honest pride,When much was talked of boats and crews,When Proctors were defied:When Tick was in its early bloom,When Schools were far away,As vaguely distant as the tomb,Nor more regarded—they!When arm was freely linked with armBeneath the College limes,When Sunday grinds possessed a charmDenied to College Rhymes:When ices were in much requestBeside the April fire,When men were very strangely dressedBy Standen or by Prior.Return, ye Freshman’s Terms! They doReturn, and much the same,To boys, who, just like me and you,Play the absurd old game!