The poem reads:

The holidays are o’er,
Oh dear! What a bore,
To the idle, the stupid, and dull.
No gaiety, no fun,
No plumpudding, nor bun,
Oh cricay, it is a sad mull.

Hic hac hoc
cries the clock,
Run, run every boy to his class.
Don’t be so very fast,
Bawls the boy that is last,
Or I shall be dub’d a lazy ass.

The masters all ready
Cry steady boys steady,
At your desks be docile and mum.
Be ready with your task,
Or be sure I will ask
For the birch to tickle sharp your bum.

I’ve read your lines, so very funny;
The Bank is stop’d and has my money,
So to buy your doggerel I propose,
With the affection of C B Rose.

[The reference to money at the end of the poem is possibly referring to the bank crash of May 1866 (Overend, Gurney and Co), which deprived the Rose family of a lot of money.]