Curtain falls on the confusion of Butler and the horror-stricken dismay of the two Deans.
The Battle of Alma Mater
I
The Temperance commissioners
In awful conclave sat,
Their noses into this to poke
To poke them into that—
In awful conclave sat they,
And swore a solemn oath,
That snuff should make no Briton sneeze,
That smokers all to smoke should cease,
They swore to conquer both.
II
Forth went a great Teetotaller,
With pamphlet armed and pen,
He travelled east, he travelled west,
Tobacco to condemn.
At length to Cantabrigia,
To move her sons to shame,
Foredoomed to chaff and insult,
That gallant hero came.
III
’Tis Friday: to the Guildhall
Come pouring in apace
The gownsmen and the townsmen
Right thro’ the market place—
They meet, these bitter foemen
Not enemies but friends—
Then fearless to the rostrum,
The Lecturer ascends.
IV
He cursed the martyr’d Raleigh,
He cursed the mild cigar,
He traced to pipe and cabbage leaf
Consumption and catarrh;
He railed at simple bird’s-eye,
By freshmen only tried,
And with rude and bitter jest assailed
The yard of clay beside.