Doff your great castors for brims of less border,
Assume trencher caps in the room of your old beavers,
And march off to school at great Intellect’s order;
For many a poet, who now does not know it,
Professor, historian, logician and great wit,
Mathematician, and famed rhetorician,
Shall start from the dust-cart, or rise from the coal-pit.
March, march, &c.
Come from your shop-boards, ye tailors so nimble,
Come forth, ye Crispins, from out your snug stalls,