End of the Game
The End of the Game
Some brainy babe has captured Brendan Quinn.
Trinity girls are gnawing out their hearts.
The game they dreamt for years that they might win
Is over now. Now all their scheming smarts,
All application of their female arts—
All, all is wasted! What a psychic wail
They give! How they are hurt by fortune’s darts!
They’re lining up right now to take the veil.
But Brendan offers comfort: “Don’t grow pale,
Trinity girls! Don’t throw all hope away!
The yearning of your hearts need never fail.
You’ll happen on a substitute someday—
And at last know enough felicity.
Of course, your dreams will still be filled with me….”