WILLALOO.

By E. A. P.


In the sad and sodden street,
To and fro,
Flit the fever-stricken feet
Of the freshers as they meet,
Come and go,
Ever buying, buying, buying
Where the shopmen stand supplying,
Vying, vying
All they know,
While the Autumn lies a-dying
Sad and low
As the price of summer suitings when the winter breezes blow,
Of the summer, summer suitings that are standing in a row
On the way to Jericho.

See the freshers as they row
To and fro,
Up and down the Lower River for an afternoon or so--
(For the deft manipulation
Of the never-resting oar,
Though it lead to approbation,
Will induce excoriation)--
They are infinitely sore,