Picus Erythrocephalus:
Farewell! Farewell! But this I tell
To thee, thou pale studént,
Ere dews have fell, thou'lt rue it well
That woodward thou didst went:
Then whilst thou blows the drooping nose
And wip'st the pensive eye—
There where the sad symplocarpus foetidus grows,
Then think—O think of I!
Loud flouted there that student wight
Solche warnynge for to hear;
"I scorn, old hen, thy threats of might,
And eke thine ill grammére."
"Go peck the lice (or green or red)
That swarm the bass-wood tree,
But wag no more thine addled head
Nor clack thy tongue at me."
The wood-peck turned to whet her beak,
The student heard her drum,
As through the wood he went to seek
The Cypripediúm.
Alas! and for that pale studént:
The evening bell did ring,
And down the walk the Freshmen went
Unto the prayer-meetíng;
Upon the fence loud rose the song,
The weak, weak tea was o'er—
Ha! who is he that sneaks along
Into South Middle's door?
The mud was on his shoon, and O!
The briar was in his thumb,
His staff was in his hand but no—
No Cypripediúm.
Henry A. Beers.