LONE relic of the bygone days!

Thou hast outslept the world's regard;

What would'st thou with our modern ways,

Thou Rip Van Winkle of the Yard?

Though once it was thy pleasing fate

To serve the universal ends, -

From Freshman up to graduate

Alike thy debtors and thy friends,

Yet now, a melancholy ghost,

Thou still dost haunt thine ancient place;

The little world that prized thee most

Supplanted by a stranger race.

Some Annex maid, perchance, compels

Thy stream with dainty finger-tips;

Some midnight reveller dispels

The heat that haunts his fevered lips.