That stamps, whate'er may be the name,
Or with a good or evil fame.
But howsoe'er the thing we view
Our little Johnny's title's new:
Or for the child or for the man,
In an old phrase, 'tis spick and span.
Besides, as most folk do agree
To find a charm in novelty,
'Tis the first time that Grammar rule
Which makes boys tremble when at school
Did with the name an union crave
Which at the font a sponsor gave.
But whether 'twas in hum'rous mood
Or by some classic whim pursued,
Or as, in Eton's Grammar known,
It bore relation to his own,
Syntax, it was at Whitsuntide,
And a short time before he died,
In pleasant humour, after dinner,
Surnam'd, in wine, the little sinner. |
And thus, amid the table's roar,
Gave him from good, old Lilly's store,
A name which none e'er had before. | } |
—'Squire Worthy, who, perchance was there
Promis'd the Doctor's wish to share,
That want, at least might not annoy
The progress of the Foundling Boy.
"—Syntax," He said, "We'll try between us
To make the fortune of Quæ Genus:
You feed his mind with learning's food,
And I'll protect him if he's good."
"While I," said smiling Dickey Bend,
"Will add my mite as Johnny's friend;
Nor shall he want the scraps of knowledge
Which he can pick up at my College."
—Thus, as they did the bumper ply
To Johnny's future destiny,
The warm, almost parental heart
Of Mrs. Syntax bore its part;
And her cheek wore a smile of joy
As she beheld th' unconscious boy,
Who, careless of the kind debate,
Play'd with the cherries on his plate. |
But such is life's uncertain hour,
And such is fate's tyrannic power,
That while our comforts smile around