Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | ||
308
AH! NO MORE OF YOUR ETHICS!
Ah! no more of your ethics and morals,
They but pucker the sweetest of faces;
The muses that labor for laurels,
Have never been famed for the graces:
Be a woman more loving than prudent,
And be sure of more grateful successes;
Your chiding repels the young student,
Who were won by your smiles and caresses.
They but pucker the sweetest of faces;
The muses that labor for laurels,
Have never been famed for the graces:
Be a woman more loving than prudent,
And be sure of more grateful successes;
Your chiding repels the young student,
Who were won by your smiles and caresses.
Yet if ethics and stuff I must con over,
'Tis something that you're the professor;
And if to your sect I am won over,
'Twill be while you're mother confessor.
As our chaplain, your chance of succeeding
Is better, a thousand times better,
Than such as we've had, of no breeding—
Antiques, but not gems, in black letter.
'Tis something that you're the professor;
And if to your sect I am won over,
'Twill be while you're mother confessor.
As our chaplain, your chance of succeeding
Is better, a thousand times better,
Than such as we've had, of no breeding—
Antiques, but not gems, in black letter.
Your eye beams with right inspiration,
And teaches a pleasanter knowledge
Than any, misnamed Education,
That but worries, not wins, through the college.
And that mouth, with its ripe recitation,
Ah! wherefore thus torture its beauty
With such crudities, full of vexation,
That but dull us with lessons of duty?
And teaches a pleasanter knowledge
Than any, misnamed Education,
That but worries, not wins, through the college.
And that mouth, with its ripe recitation,
Ah! wherefore thus torture its beauty
With such crudities, full of vexation,
That but dull us with lessons of duty?
How different far the expression,
When, lost in a fancy, the woman
Drops text, and dilates in digression,
That shows us our tutor is human!
Such wisdom then beams in each feature,
We grow wise through a glorious emotion;
Such divinity shines through the creature,
That Jack Dunce is imbued with devotion.
When, lost in a fancy, the woman
Drops text, and dilates in digression,
That shows us our tutor is human!
309
We grow wise through a glorious emotion;
Such divinity shines through the creature,
That Jack Dunce is imbued with devotion.
With the priestess herself so angelic,
Having lips so persuasive, 'twill hap ill,
Though she may not beguile to the relic,
If she does not persuade to the chapel.
'Tis enough for my faith that you spell us,
Through the witchery of wit, to be dutiful;
And though sometimes most wicked young fellows,
We grow good through our love of the beautiful.
Having lips so persuasive, 'twill hap ill,
Though she may not beguile to the relic,
If she does not persuade to the chapel.
'Tis enough for my faith that you spell us,
Through the witchery of wit, to be dutiful;
And though sometimes most wicked young fellows,
We grow good through our love of the beautiful.
Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | ||