I used to think there would be fun

When all my going to school was done,

  And all my lessons o’er;

When my good master—I thought him then

The worst and wildest of mortal men—

  Should hear my tasks no more.


Well, now, the school time all is past,

I’m out of my master’s thrall at last,

  And sent to business here.

Yet the days of grumbling’ are not gone,

Fortunes may change, but they last on,

  Still fresh from year to year.