Classic Poem

Under these walls and towers
By these green water-ways,
Oh the good days were ours,
The unforgotten days!

Too happy to be wise
When the road used to run
Under such maddening skies
Headlong to Huntingdon.

Paths where the lilac spills
Blossom too rich to bear;
Gold sheets of daffodils
Lighting the Market Square;

Shimmer of gliding prows
Where the green shade is cool,
Tea under orchard boughs,
Smoke-rings by Byron's Pool.

Sunset at back of King's
Behind the silver spire,
Talk of uncounted things
Over a college fire —

Red leaves above your door,
Gray walls and echoing street
Whose stones will never more
Ring to your passing feet;

Strange! to think Term is here,
Life leads the same old dance,
While you lie dead, my dear,
Somewhere in France. . . .