Classic Poem

HEIGH-HO ! my thoughts are far away;
For wine or books I have no care;
I like to think upon the way
She has of looking very fair.
Oh, work is naught, and play is naught,
And all the livelong day is naught;
There's nothing much I care to learn
But what her lovely lips have taught.

The campus cannot tempt me out,
The classics cannot keep me in;
The only place I care about
Is where perchance she may have been.
Oh, work is naught, and play is naught,
And all the livelong day is naught;
There's nothing much I care to find
Except the way she would be sought.

The train across the valley screams,
And like a hawk sweeps out of sight;
It bears me to her in my dreams
By day and night, by day and night.
Oh, work is naught, and play is naught.
And all the livelong day is naught;
There's nothing much I care to be,
If I be only in her thought.