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1139

VII
A Miscellany

1148

[Five fathom square the Belfry frowns]

Five fathom square the Belfry frowns;
All its sides of timber made;
Painted all in grays and browns;
Nothing of it that will fade.
Christ Church may admire the change—
Oxford thinks it sad and strange.
Beauty's dead! Let's ring her knell.
Hark! now I hear them—ding-dong, bell.
1155

THE WANDERING BURGESS

Our Willie had been sae lang awa'
Frae bonnie Oxford toon,
The townsfolk they were greeting a'
As they went up and doon.
1156

He hadna been gane a year, a year,
A year but barely ten,
When word came unto Oxford toon,
Our Willie wad come agen.
Willie he stude at Thomas his Gate,
And made a lustie din;
And who so blithe as the gate-porter
To rise and let him in?
“Now enter Willie, now enter Willie,
And look around the place,
And see the pain that we have ta'en
Thomas his Quad to grace.”
The first look that our Willie cast,
He leuch loud laughters three,
The neist look that our Willie cast
The tear blindit his e'e.
Sae square and stark the Tea-chest frowned
Athwart the upper air,
But when the Trench our Willie saw,
He thocht the Tea-chest fair.
Sae murderous-deep the Trench did gape
The parapet aboon,
But when the Tunnel Willie saw
He loved the Trench eftsoon.
'Twas mirk beneath the tane archway,
'Twas mirk beneath the tither;
Ye wadna ken a man therein,
Though it were your ain dear brither.
He turned him round and round about,
And looked upon the Three;
And dismal grew his countenance,
And drumlie grew his e'e.
1157

“What cheer, what cheer, my gallant knight?”
The gate-porter 'gan say.
“Saw ever ye sae fair a sight
As ye have seen this day?”
“Now hand your tongue of your prating, man:
Of your prating now let me be.
For, as I'm a true knight, a fouler sight
I'll never live to see.
“Before I'd be the ruffian dark
Who planned this ghastly show,
I'd serve as secretary's clerk
To Ayrton or to Lowe.
“Before I'd own the loathly thing
That Christ Church Quad reveals,
I'd serve as shoeblack's underling
To Odger and to Beales!”
1168

A BACCHANALIAN ODE

Here's to the Freshman of bashful eighteen!
Here's to the Senior of twenty!
Here's to the youth whose moustache can't be seen!
And here's to the man who has plenty!
Let the men Pass!
Out of the mass
I'll warrant we'll find you some fit for a Class!
1169

Here's to the Censors, who symbolize Sense,
Just as Mitres incorporate Might, Sir!
To the Bursar, who never expands the expense!
And the Readers, who always do right, Sir!
Tutor and Don,
Let them jog on!
I warrant they'll rival the centuries gone!
Here's to the Chapter, melodious crew!
Whose harmony surely intends well:
For, though it commences with “harm,” it is true,
Yet its motto is “All's well that ends well!”
'Tis love, I'll be bound,
That makes it go round!
For “In for a penny is in for a pound!”
Here's to the Governing Body, whose Art
(For they're Masters of Arts to a man, Sir!)
Seeks to beautify Christ Church in every part,
Though the method seems hardly to answer!
With three T's it is graced—
Which letters are placed
To stand for the names of Tact, Talent, and Taste!
1232

[‘Alas! she would not hear my prayer!]

‘Alas! she would not hear my prayer!
Yet it were rash to tear my hair;
Disfigured, I should be less fair.
‘She was unwise, I may say blind;
Once she was lovingly inclined;
Some circumstance has changed her mind.’
1233

[‘Well! so my offer was no go!]

‘Well! so my offer was no go!
She might do worse, I told her so;
She was a fool to answer “No.”
‘However, things are as they stood;
Nor would I have her if I could,
For there are plenty more as good.’
1234

[‘Firebrands and daggers! hope hath fled!]

‘Firebrands and daggers! hope hath fled!
To atoms dash the doubly dead!
My brain is fire—my heart is lead!
‘Her soul is flint, and what am I?
Scorch'd by her fierce, relentless eye,
Nothingness is my destiny!’
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