Curly head, and laughing eyes,--
Mischief that all blame defies.
Cricket,--footer,--Eton-jacket,--
Everlasting din and racket.
Tennis,--boating,--socks and ties,--
Tragedies,--and comedies.
Business,--sobered,--getting on,--
One girl now,--The Only One.
London Scottish,--sporran,--kilt,--
Bonnet cocked at proper tilt.
Dies Irae!--Off to France,--
Lord,--a safe deliverance!
Deadly work,--foul gases,--trenches;
Naught that radiant spirit quenches.
Letters dated "Somewhere--France,"--
Mud,--and grub,--and no romance.
Hearts at home all on the quiver,
Telegrams make backbones shiver.
Silence!--Feverish enquiry;--
Dies Irae!--Dies Irae!
His the joy,--and ours the pain,
But, ere long, we'll meet again.
Not too much we'll sorrow--for
It's both "' Dieu!" and "au revoir!"