Whene'er with haggard eyes I view
This dungeon that I'm rotting in,
I think of those companions true
Who studied with me at the U—
—niversity of Gottingen —
—niversity of Gottingen.

Sweet kerchief, checked with heavenly blue,
Which once my love sat knotting in! —
Alas! Matilda then was true!
At least I thought so at the U
—niversity of Gottingen —
—niversity of Gottingen.

Barbs! barbs! alas! how swift you flew
Her neat post-wagon trotting in!
Ye bore Matilda from my view;
Eorloni I languished at the U—
—niversity of Gottiiigen—
—niversity of Gottingen.

This faded form! this pallid hue!
This blood my veins is clotting in,
My years are many, —they were few
When first I entered at the U
—niversity of Gottingen —
—niversity of Gottingen.

There first for thee my passion grew,
Sweet! sweet Matilda Pottingen!
Thou wast the daughter of my tu—
—tor, law professor at the U
—niversity of Gottingen —
—niversity of Gottingen.

Sun, moon, and thou vain world, adieu.
That kings and priests are plotting in:
Here doomed to starve on water gru—
—el, never shall I see the U—
—niversity of Gottingen —
—niversity of Gottingen.

More verses by George Canning