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47
And
if,
perchance,
by
memory's
light;
Departed
friends
we
view,
Oh
!
let
that
memory
still
be
bright^
And may
our
hearts
be
true
!
When
last
the
cup
was
flowing,
One
sat
within
our
Hall,
Whose
eye
with
kindness
glowing
Inspired
the
festival
b
.
But
now
that
bright
and
honoured
head
Rests
in
the
darkling
tomb
;
And
ours
it
is
to
mourn
the
dead
In
unavailing
gloom.
Forgive
the
Muse,
if,
erring.
He
drop
a
plaintful
word
:
If,
thoughts
of
sorrow
stirring,
He
strike
too
harsh
a
chord.
He
would
not
mar
the
festive
scene,
Nor
give
a
wanton
pain
:
And,
though
her
strains
have
saddening
been*
She
bids
you
smile
again.
h
This
passage
alludes
to
the
demise
of
an
Under
graduate,
who
at
the
preceding
meeting
had,
by
his
wit
and
humour,
contributed
much
to
the
hilarity
of
his
fellow-students.