ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE.

"ATQUI SCIEBAT QUÆ SIBI BARBARUS TORTOR PARARET."

ONE more unfortunate

Ploughed for degree,

By those importunate

Questioners three.

II.

Tell it him gingerly,

Break it with care,

Think you he'll angry be?

Or will he swear?

III.

Look at his college cap,

Bent with its broken flap,

Whilst his hand constantly

Clutches his gown,

And he walks vacantly

Back through the town.

IV.

Didn't he study?

Wasn't he cute? or

Had he a coach? and

Who was his tutor?

Or was he a queerer one

Still, and had ne'er a one,

And all this the fruit? Or

Was his brain muddled,

Addled and puddled,

From over-working?

Or did he all the day

Racquets and cricket play,

Books and dons shirking?

VI.

His Greek was a mystery,

So was his history,

His throbbing brain whirled,

And through his shaggy hair,

Both his hands twirled.

VII.

He goes at it boldly,

No matter how coldly

Examiners scan

Him over the table,

And say, "If you're able,

Construe it, man;

Look at it, think of it,

Do what you can."

VIII.

Now they stare frigidly,

Calmly and rigidly,

Courteously, slily;

How well he knows them,

Who could suppose them

Witty and wily?

IX.

Helplessly staring,

He looks at it long,

Then with the daring

Last look of despairing,

Construes it wrong.

Failing most signally,

Construing miserably;

Frequent false quantity,

But as they want it, he

Must do his best,

Until they tell him he

Need not decidedly

Construe the rest.

XI.

Full of urbanity

And inhumanity,

See what they've done;

Out of each couple,

They with tongues supple

Ploughed at least one.

Lays of Modern Oxford, by Adon (Chapman and Hall, 1874).