Recollections of the School Days

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of ourearly days,
The scene is touching and the heart is stone
That feels not at the sight, and feels at none;
The wall on which we tried our graving skill,
The very name we carved sustisting still,
The banch on which we sat while deep employed;
Though mangled, hackled and hewed, not yet destroyed;
The little ones, unbuttoned, glowing hot,
Playing our games and on the very spot;
The Pleasing Spectacle at ones excites-
Such recollections of our delights,
That viewing it, we seem almost to obtain
Our innocent sweet simple years again.