ON University I stand,

And cast a longing eye,

On Matthews' massive pile of bricks,

Where my possessions lie.

Between us rolls a mighty flood

Of muddy slush and snow;

Unless I trust me to its waves

My rooms I must forego.

The heads of struggling sinners bob

Upon each tossing crest;

Some sink exhausted in the strife, -

The waves they cannot breast.

Some reach at last the promised shore,

But sink exhausted down;

The breakers' harsh and deafening roar

Their shouts of triumph drown.

I knew a youth whose valiant heart

Urged him to brave the flood.

Right proudly on the granite steps

The youthful hero stood.

He glanced towards the distant shore,

And fire was in his eye.

I knew too well that he was bent

To conquer or to die.

Next day, when dawn's bright smile looked down,

It saw a bit of plank

Which Jones had placed to mark the spot

Where that brave student sank.