‘Saith they be terrible:  watch their feats i’ the Viva! 
     One question plays the deuce with six months’ toil. 
     Aha, if they would tell me!  No, not they! 
     There is the sport:  ‘come read me right or die!’
     All at their mercy,—­why they like it most
     When—­when—­well, never try the same shot twice! 
    ’Hath fled himself and only got up a tree.

    ’Will say a plain word if he gets a plough.

[1] Caliban museth of the now extinct Examination in the Rudiments of Faith and Religion.

SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMPS.

My Juggins, see:  the pasture green,
Obeying Nature’s kindly law,
Renews its mantle; there has been
A thaw.

The frost-bound earth is free at last,
That lay ’neath Winter’s sullen yoke
’Till people felt it getting past
A joke.

Now forth again the Freshers fare,
And get them tasty summer suits
Wherein they flaunt afield and scare
The brutes.

Again the stream suspects the keel;
Again the shrieking captain drops
Upon his crew; again the meal
Of chops

Divides the too-laborious day;
Again the Student sighs o’er Mods,
And prompts his enemies to lay
Long odds.

Again the shopman spreads his wiles;
Again the organ-pipes, unbound,
Distract the populace for miles
Around.

Then, Juggins, ere December’s touch
Once more the wealth of Spring reclaim,
Since each successive year is much
The same;

Since too the monarch on his throne
In purple lapped and frankincense,
Who from his infancy has blown
Expense,

No less than he who barely gets
The boon of out-of-door relief,
Must see desuetude,—­come let’s
Be brief.

At those resolves last New Year’s Day
The easy gods indulgent wink. 
Then downward, ho!—­the shortest way
Is drink.

A LETTER.

Addressed during the Summer Term of 1888 by Mr. Algernon Dexter,
Scholar of ------ College, Oxford, to his cousin, Miss Kitty
Tremayne, at ------ Vicarage, Devonshire.

After W. M. P.

     Dear Kitty,
          At length the term’s ending;
        I ’m in for my Schools in a week;
     And the time that at present I’m spending
        On you should be spent upon Greek: 
     But I’m fairly well read in my Plato,
        I’m thoroughly red in the eyes,
     And I’ve almost forgotten the way to
        Be healthy and wealthy and wise. 
     So ’the best of all ways’—­why repeat you
        The verse at 2.30 a.m.,
     When I ’m stealing an hour to entreat you
        Dear Kitty, to come to Commem.?

     Oh, come!  You shall rustle in satin
        Through halls where Examiners trod: 
     Your laughter shall triumph o’er Latin
        In lecture-room, garden, and quad.