Sagittulae, Random Verses Part 3

'Twas at the May Term Races That first I met her eye: Amid a thousand Graces No form with her's could vie.

On Gra.s.sy's sward enamelled She reigned fair Beauty's Queen; And every heart entrammell'd With the charms of sweet eighteen.

Once more I saw that Bonnet-- 'Twas on the King's Parade-- Once more I gazed upon it, And silent homage paid.

She knew not I was gazing; She pa.s.sed unheeding by; While I, in trance amazing, Stood staring at the sky.

The May Term now is over: That Bonnet has 'gone down'; And I'm myself a rover, Far from my Cap and Gown.

But I dread the Long Vacation, And its work by night and day, After all the dissipation Energetic of the May.

For _x_ and _y_ will vanish, When that Bonnet I recall; And a vision fair will banish, Newton, Euclid, and s...o...b..ll.

And a gleam of tresses golden, And of eyes divinely blue, Will interfere with Holden, And my Verse and Prose imbue.

These sweet girl graduate beauties, With their bonnets and their roses, Will mar ere long the duties Which Granta wise imposes.

Who, when such eyes are s.h.i.+ning, Can quell his heart's sensations; Or turn without repining To Square Root and Equations?

And when conspicuous my name By absence shall appear; When I have lost all hopes of fame, Which once I held so dear; When 'plucked' I seek a vain relief In plaintive dirge or sonnet; Thou wilt have caused that bitter grief, Thou beautiful Pink Bonnet!

(1866).

THE MAY TERM.

Mille venit variis florum Dea nexa coronis: Scena ioci morem liberioris habet.

OV. FAST. IV. 945, 946.

I wish that the May Term were over, That its wearisome pleasures were o'er, And I were reclining in clover On the downs by a wave-beaten sh.o.r.e: For fathers and mothers by dozens, And sisters, a host without end, Are bringing up numberless cousins, Who have each a particular friend.

I'm not yet confirmed in misogyny-- They are all very well in their way-- But my heart is as hard as mahogany, When I think of the ladies in May.

I shudder at each railway-whistle, Like a very much victimized lamb; For I know that the carriages bristle With ladies invading the Cam.

Last week, as in due preparation For reading I sported my door, With surprise and no small indignation, I picked up this note on the floor-- 'Dear E. we are coming to see you, 'So get us some lunch if you can; 'We shall take you to Gra.s.sy, as Jehu-- 'Your affectionate friend, Mary Ann.'

Affectionate friend! I'm disgusted With proofs of affection like these, I'm growing 'old, tawny and crusted,'

Tho' my nature is easy to please.

An Englishman's home is his castle, So I think that my friend Mary Ann Should respect, tho' she deem him her va.s.sal, The rooms of a reading young man.

In the days of our fathers how pleasant The May Term up here must have been!

No chignons distracting were present, And scarcely a bonnet was seen.

As the boats paddled round Gra.s.sy Corner No ladies examined the crews, Or exclaimed with the voice of the scorner-- 'Look, _how_ Mr. Arculus screws!!

But now there are ladies in College, There are ladies in Chapels and Halls; No doubt 'tis a pure love of knowledge That brings them within our old walls; For they talk about Goldie's 'beginning'; Know the meaning of 'finish' and 'scratch,'

And will bet even gloves on our winning The Boat Race, Athletics, or Match.

There's nothing but music and dancing, Bands playing on each College green; And bright eyes are merrily glancing Where nothing but books should be seen.

They tell of a grave Dean a fable, That reproving an idle young man He faltered, for on his own table He detected in horror--a fan!

Through Libraries, Kitchens, Museums, These Prussian-like Amazons rush, Over ma.n.u.scripts, joints, mausoleums, With equal intensity gush.

Then making their due 'requisition,'

From 'the lions' awhile they refrain, And repose in the perfect fruition Of ices, cold fowl, and champagne.

Mr. Editor, answer my question-- When, O when, shall this tyranny cease?

Shall the process of mental digestion Ne'er find from the enemy peace?

Above all if my name you should guess, Sir, Keep it quite to yourself, if you can; For I dread, more than words can express, Sir, My affectionate friend Mary Ann.

(1871).

A TRAGEDY OF THE 19TH CENTURY.

"Et potis es nigrum vitio praefigere Delta."--PERSIUS.

It was a young Examiner, scarce thirty were his years, His name our University loves, honours, and reveres: He pondered o'er some papers, and a tear stood in his eye; He split his quill upon the desk, and raised a bitter cry-- 'O why has Fortune struck me down with this unearthly blow?

"Why doom'd me to examine in my lov'd one's Little-go?

"O Love and Duty, sisters twain, in diverse ways ye pull; "I dare not 'pa.s.s,' I scarce can 'pluck:' my cup of woe is full.

"O that I ever should have lived this dismal day to see"!

He knit his brow, and nerved his hand, and wrote the fatal D.

It was a lovely maiden down in Hertford's lovely s.h.i.+re; Before her on a reading-desk, lay many a well-filled quire: The lamp of genius lit her eyes; her years were twenty-two; Her brow was high, her cheek was pale, her bearing somewhat blue: She pondered o'er a folio, and laboured to divine The mysteries of "_x_" and "_y_," and many a magic sign: Yet now and then she raised her eye, and ceased awhile to ponder, And seem'd as though inclined to allow her thoughts elsewhere to wander, A step was heard, she closed her book; her heart beat high and fast, As through the court and up the stairs a manly figure pa.s.sed.

One moment more, the opening door disclosed unto her view Her own beloved Examiner, her friend and lover true.

"Tell me, my own Rixator, is it First or Second Cla.s.s?"

His firm frame shook, he scarce could speak, he only sigh'd "Alas!"

She gazed upon him with an air serenely calm and proud-- "Nay, tell me all, I fear it not"--he murmured sadly "Ploughed."

She clasped her hands, she closed her eyes as fell the word of doom; Full five times round in silence did she pace her little room; Then calmly sat before her books, and sigh'd "Rixator dear, "Give me the list of subjects to be studied for next year."

"My own brave Mathematica, my pupil and my pride, "My persevering Student whom I destine for my bride; "Love struggled hard with Duty, while the lover marked you B; "In the end the stern Examiner prevailed and gave you D.

"Mine was the hand that dealt the blow! Alas, against my will "I plucked you in Arithmetic--and can'st thou love me still?"

She gazed upon him and her eye was full of love and pride-- "Nay these are but the trials, Love, by which true love is tried.

"I never knew your value true, until you marked me D: "D stands for dear, and dear to me you evermore shall be."

A year had pa.s.sed, and she had pa.s.sed, for morning, noon, and night, Her Euclid and her Barnard-Smith had been her sole delight.

Soon "Baccalaurea Artium" was added to her name, And Hitchin's groves, and Granta's courts resounded with her fame; And when Rixator hurried down one day by the express, And asked if she would have him, I believe she answered "Yes."

For now they live together, and a wiser, happier pair, More learned and more loving, can scarce be found elsewhere; And they teach their children Euclid, and their babies all can speak French and German in their cradles, and at five can write good Greek; And he is a Professor and she Professoress, And they never cease the Little-go in grat.i.tude to bless; When love could not the Lover from the path of duty sway, And no amount of plucking could his Student fair dismay.

MORAL.