‘Twas the night before O-Week, when all through Cornell
Not a creature was stirring, not even one of the many rats that live in every North Campus stairwell.
The freshman were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While visions of academic recognition danced in their heads.
When out on the quad there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my inconveniently-sized twin bed to see what was the matter.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a sick freshman and eight dudes full of beer!
More rapid than eagles his friends they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Brad! now, Chad! now Bryce and Mike!
On, John! on, Tom! on, Ike and the other Mike!
Right next to this wall! Where I hooked up with that girl!
Now dash away! dash away! I’m going to hurl!”
And then, in a heaving, I heard by the wall
The gagging and splashing of too much alcohol.
A wipe of his mouth and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And stumbled back home like some kind of jerk.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he hobbled out of sight—
“Happy O-Week to all, and to all a good night!”
Ian Kranz, ’19