Small be the lore of learned men
Who know not this rich ancient tongue.
This moved to work the noble Lhuyd,
Whose words of eloquence proceed
From that deep fount beside which grew
The Oakling of the Celtic seed.
’Tis time to teach and woo the muse
Where fair Oxonia rears her towers,
Where classic learning finds her home,
And Isis shows her banks of flowers.