Poems, by Robert Louis Stevenson, hitherto unpublished/Poem for a Class Re-union
POEM FOR A CLASS RE-UNION—1875
Mr. D'Arcy Wentworth Thompson, himself an author and a man described as charming in his personality, was the Master referred to in the third line of this poem. It was at his private school in Frederick Street, Edinburgh, that Stevenson during the years 1864-1867 had formed the friendships that led him, some years later, to attend the class re-union for which this poem was written.
POEM FOR A CLASS RE-UNION
Whether we like it, or don't,
There's a sort of bond in the fact
That we all by one master were taught,
By one master were bullied and whackt.
And now all the more when we see
Our class in so shrunken a state
And we, who were seventy-two,
Diminished to seven or eight.
One has been married, and one
Has taken to letters for bread;
Several are over the seas;
And some I imagine are dead.
And that is the reason, you see,
Why, as I have the honour to state,
We, who were seventy-two,
Are now only seven or eight.
One took to heretical views,
And one, they inform me, to drink;
Some construct fortunes in trade,
Some starve in professions, I think.
But one way or other, alas!
Through the culpable action of Fate
We, who were seventy-two
Are now shrunken to seven or eight.
So, whether we like it or not,
Let us own there's a bond in the past,
And, since we were playmates at school,
Continue good friends to the last.
The roll-book is closed in the room,
The clackan is gone with the slate,
We, who were seventy-two
Are now only seven or eight.
We shall never, our books on our back,
Trudge off in the morning again,
To the slide at the janitor's door,
By the ambush of rods in the lane.
We shall never be sent for the tawse,
Nor lose places for coming too late;
We shall never be seventy-two,
Who now are but seven or eight!
We shall never have pennies for lunch,
We shall never be strapped by Maclean,
We shall never take gentlemen down,
Nor ever be schoolboys again.
But still for the sake of the past,
For the love of the days of lang syne
The remnant of seventy-two
Shall rally together to dine.