LORD TOMNODDY IN THE FINAL SCHOOLS.
WITH blackest ink the books around
Were thickly blotted one and all;
The very nails looked half unsound
That held the pictures to the wall.
The dismal scene was wrapped in gloom,
Sported was the unsocial oak:
Seedy and torn and thick with smoke
The curtains hung athwart the room.
He only said, "The schools are dreary:
This Euclid racks my head.
Of Ethics I am very weary;
I shall be ploughed," he said.
His sighs came with the lightening heaven,
And ever through the day he sighed.
He could not play in the Eleven,
Or coach the Eight at eventide.
After the shutting of the gates,
He drew his casement curtain by,
And watched along the gleaming High
The lovers strolling with their mates.
He only said, "The schools are dreary:
This Euclid racks my head.
Ethics are the reverse of cheery;
I shall be ploughed," he said.
And half asleep he heard forlorn
The caterwauling on the roof;
The chapel bell rung out at morn
Came to him—but he held aloof.
In dreams he seemed to see the Halls,
And fatal precincts of the Schools:
To watch the crowd of ghastly fools,
Who tried in vain to pass their Smalls.
He only said, "The schools are dreary:
This Euclid racks my brain.
Of Ethics I am very weary;
I shall be ploughed again."
He sat and darkened all the air,
With smoke up-wreathing from his weed:
All day, half-dreaming in his chair,
He sat and read—or seemed to read—
Or from the window peered about.
His friends still hammered at his door;
He heard them on the upper floor;
Their voices called him from without.
He only said, "The schools are nearing;
I cannot come," said he.
"Although of Ethics I am wearying,
I shall be ploughed, you'll see."
For hours he sat, without a pause,
And snored o'er Plato's sage debate
Of the Republic and the Laws:
Both these his brain did obfuscate
But most of all he loathed the power
Of x + y, whose depths profound
Long-winded dons would oft expound,
And moralise on by the hour.
Then said he, "I am very weary,
This Euclid racks my brain.
Mansell and Mill are very dreary;
I shall be ploughed again!"
H. C. I., QUEEN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD
College Rhymes (T. and G. Shrimpton), Oxford, 1868.