Part 12 (1/2)

ADDRESSED TO HIS UNIVERSITY.

Wish ye, sons of Alma Mater, Long lost laurels to replace?

Listen to a stout old Pater, Once renowned in many a race.

Now, alas! I'm fat and forty, And my form grows round to view; And my nose is rather ”porty;”

But my heart is still light-blue.

'Tis as bad as an emetic, E'en my 'baccy I refuse, When I hear that sports athletic Interfere with Cambridge crews.

Once a Grecian runner famous Scorned to fight his country's foes; And to Greece, as some to Camus, Caused innumerable woes.

When I hear the voice parental Cry, ”my youngster shall not row!”

Then my wrath is transcendental, Then my words with vigour flow.

Sires, with hearts of alabaster, Your stern ”vetos” yet you'll rue, When ye see a sixth disaster, Overwhelm your loved light-blue.

But whatever to Cambridge happen, Sons of Cam behave like men!

Rally round your royal Cap'en, _King_ of _Lake_, and King of Fen!

Fortune helps the brave who court her, Only to yourselves be true; And perhaps, on Putney's water, Victory will crown light-blue.

When your c.o.x'en cries ”all ready,”

Be alert, dismiss all napping, Get well forward, all sit steady, Grasp the oar, avoid all ”capping:”

Shoulders square, back straight, eyes ever Fixed upon the back before; Then all eight, with one endeavour, Dip at once the bladed oar.

Catch your stroke at the beginning, Then let legs with vigour work: Little hope has he of winning, Who his ”stretcher” loves to s.h.i.+rk.

Let your rigid arms extended Be as straight as pokers two; And until the stroke is ended, Pull it, without jerking, through!

Thus all disputations spurning, Ye, ere many a year has past, While old Fortune's wheel is turning, Victory shall taste at last.

Only wait and work together; Trust in discipline and pluck-- Soon bad luck will run his tether, And good rowing bring good luck.

(1866).

THE SORROWS OF FATHER CAM.

1. WATNEY Lady Margaret. 5. STEAVENSON Trinity Hall 2. BEEBEE Lady Margaret. 6. BORTHWICK 1st Trinity.

3. PIGOTT Corpus 7. GRIFFITHS 3rd Trinity.

4. KINGLAKE 3rd Trinity. 8. LAWES 3rd Trinity.

Steerer, ARCHER, Corpus.

One night, as I silently wandered By Cam's slow meandering stream, And many things mentally pondered, I saw, as it were in a dream, A black head emerge from the billows, A broad body swim through the flood, Till, beneath the o'ershadowing willows, It sank gently down in the mud.

All alone--as a Scholar of Tyrwhitt When examined in Hebrew he sits-- On a log that mysterious spirit Smokes in silence, and silently spits.

And yet not alone sat the vision; There came, as he sat on his log, A wag of delight and submission From the tail of each demi-drowned dog.

Black eels from his temples were hanging, His teeth were like teeth of a jack; His lips were inaudibly ”slanging”; His eyes were all muddy and black; And water-snakes, round his neck twining, Were hissing; and water-rats swam At his feet; so without much divining I recognised Old Father Cam.

”All hail to thee, Camus the reedy!”

I cried, in alarm and surprise; ”Say, why are thy garments so weedy?

And why are these tears in thine eyes?”