NIGHT-THOUGHTS.

UPON a summer evening, when day began to close,

And Nature's dainty limbs were wrapt in garments of repose,

I sat upon the College fence, musing of care and strife,

And how one absent passion would have changed the course of life.

A friend was walking through the Yard, as on the fence I sat,

And meeting me he stopped and talked; we had a pleasant chat:

Of concerts and of parties and the ending of the year,

How grand was "Julius Caesar," and how stupid "Paul Revere."

Then from these general topics we took to gossiping,

Which is, you know, in college a very usual thing.

"And have you heard about poor Bill? Ah, well, it was a shame;

He met a disappointment, lost his character and name.

I 'll tell you how it happened; it will only take a minute.

He - What was that you asked? O yes! There was a woman in it."

"And what," said I, "about that fellow that left a year ago,

Whatever has become of him?" "Of him, why don't you know?