I now must be content with chats,
Instead of learned gossip!

Farewell to "Town!" farewell to "Gown!"

I've quite outgrown the latter,Instead of Trencher-cap my head Will soon be in a platter!

O why did I at Brazen-Nose

Rout up the roots of knowledge?
A butcher that can't read will kill
A pig that's been to college!

For sorrow I could stick myself,
But conscience is a clasher;
A thing that would be rash in man,
In me would be a rasher!

One thing I ask-when I am dead, And past the Stygian ditchesAnd that is, let my schoolmaster

Have one of my two flitches:

'Twas he who taught my letters so I ne'er mistook or miss'd 'em, Simply by ringing at the nose, According to Bell's system.