And charms to the blushing fair.
At night I’ll visit the student’s room,
And I’ll scatter the ancient mist of gloom
Which darkly hangs over Learning’s tomb,
And the classical mummies there.
I’ll help him fathom the depths of Time,
Or up the heights of Parnassus climb,
Or sport in the babbling brooks of rhyme,
Or—for want of sense—make dashes;—
Thus all I’ll serve—but I’ll have my pay—