THE SONG OF THE CRAM.
With fingers trembling and warm,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A schoolboy sat, in true schoolboy style,
His hand supporting his head.
Throb! throb! throb!
With frantic excitement and dread,
And still with a look of dolor and pain,
He sat on the side of his bed.
"Throb! throb! throb!
In my chamber next the roof;
And work! work! work!
From my friends I must keep aloof;
French and German and Greek,
Greek and German and French,
Till my brow grows damp, and my breath comes hard,
And my agonised hands I clench.
"Work! work! work!
While my cousins are laughing beneath,
And work! work! work!
Till I scarcely can draw my breath;
It's oh! to prepare! prepare!
My head with knowledge to cram,
Not a word to say! not a moment to spare!
I'm going in for Exam!
"Work! work! work!
Till the brain begins to swim,
And work! work! work!
Till my eyes are heavy and dim;
Greek and German and French,
French and German and Greek,
Till over the problems I have a nap,
And work them out in my sleep.
"Throb! throb! throb!
My courage is ebbing fast!
Work! work! work!
I fear that my brain won't last!
Throb! throb! throb!
O come and help me cram!
I'm going to be a lunatic,
If plucked in this Exam!
"O men with cousins dear!
O men with mothers and wives!
I'd cram you, if I had you here,
Within an inch of your lives!
But Examiners' hearts are hard,
And their wisdom is but a sham;
And little they care what we have to bear,
Or how hard we need to cram!
"Oh! but to play a game
With my happy friends below!
Oh! but to make a pun,
Or try—but 'tis all 'no go'—
So they for me may wish,
But I must stay and cram;
Oh, bother it! I'm just 'done up'
With this horrible Exam!"
With fingers trembling and warm,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A schoolboy sat in true schoolboy style,
His hand supporting his head.
Throb! throb! throb!
And cram! cram! cram!
And still with a look of dolor and pain,
He studied and crammed with might and main,
To pass the dreaded Exam!
A. P.
The Dunheved Mirror, Cornwall, December, 1876.