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 'à Dieu!' and 'au revoir!'