Sagittulae, Random Verses | Page 5

doze'??Or hath an angel come in mortal guise'??So wondered I; but nothing mote surmise;?Only I gazed upon that lovely face,?In reverence yblent with mute surprise:?Sure never yet was seen such wondrous grace,?Since Adam first began to run his earthlie race.
Her hands were folded on her bosom meek;?Her sweet blue eyes were lifted t'ward the skie;?Her lips were parted, yet she did not speak;?Only at times she sighed, or seemed to sigh:?In all her 'haviour was there nought of shy;?Yet well I wis no Son of Earth would dare,?To look with love upon that lofty eye;?For in her beauty there was somewhat rare,?A something that repell'd an ordinary stare.
Then did she straight a snowycloth disclose?Of samite, which she placed upon a chair:?Then, smiling like a freshly-budding rose,?She gazed upon me with a witching air,?As mote a Cynic anchorite ensnare.?Eftsoons, as though her thoughts she could not smother, She hasted thus her mission to declare:--?'Please, these is your clean things I've brought instead of brother, 'And if you'll pay the bill you'll much oblige my mother.'
(1860).
A MAY TERM MEMORY.
She wore a sweet pink bonnet,?The sweetest ever known:?And as I gazed upon it,?My heart was not my own.?For--I know not why or wherefore--?A pink bonnet put on well,?Tho' few other things I care for,?Acts upon me like a spell.
'Twas at the May Term Races?That first I met her eye:?Amid a thousand Graces?No form with her's could vie.?On Grassy's sward enamelled?She reigned fair Beauty's Queen;?And every heart entrammell'd?With the charms of sweet eighteen.
Once more I saw that Bonnet--?'Twas on the King's Parade--?Once more I gazed upon it,?And silent homage paid.?She knew not I was gazing;?She passed unheeding by;?While I, in trance amazing,?Stood staring at the sky.
The May Term now is over:?That Bonnet has 'gone down';?And I'm myself a rover,?Far from my Cap and Gown.?But I dread the Long Vacation,?And its work by night and day,?After all the dissipation?Energetic of the May.
For x_ and _y will vanish,?When that Bonnet I recall;?And a vision fair will banish,?Newton, Euclid, and Snowball.?And a gleam of tresses golden,?And of eyes divinely blue,?Will interfere with Holden,?And my Verse and Prose imbue.

These sweet girl graduate beauties,?With their bonnets and their roses,?Will mar ere long the duties?Which Granta wise imposes.?Who, when such eyes are shining,?Can quell his heart's sensations;?Or turn without repining?To Square Root and Equations?
And when conspicuous my name?By absence shall appear;?When I have lost all hopes of fame,?Which once I held so dear;?When 'plucked' I seek a vain relief?In plaintive dirge or sonnet;?Thou wilt have caused that bitter grief,?Thou beautiful Pink Bonnet!
(1866).
THE MAY TERM.
Mille venit variis florum Dea nexa coronis:?Scena ioci morem liberioris habet.
OV. FAST. IV. 945, 946.
I wish that the May Term were over,?That its wearisome pleasures were o'er,?And I were reclining in clover?On the downs by a wave-beaten shore:?For fathers and mothers by dozens,?And sisters, a host without end,?Are bringing up numberless cousins,?Who have each a particular friend.
I'm not yet confirmed in misogyny--?They are all very well in their way--?But my heart is as hard as mahogany,?When I think of the ladies in May.?I shudder at each railway-whistle,?Like a very much victimized lamb;?For I know that the carriages bristle?With ladies invading the Cam.
Last week, as in due preparation?For reading I sported my door,?With surprise and no small indignation,?I picked up this note on the floor--?'Dear E. we are coming to see you,?'So get us some lunch if you can;?'We shall take you to Grassy, as Jehu--?'Your affectionate friend, Mary Ann.'
Affectionate friend! I'm disgusted?With proofs of affection like these,?I'm growing 'old, tawny and crusted,'?Tho' my nature is easy to please.?An Englishman's home is his castle,?So I think that my friend Mary Ann?Should respect, tho' she deem him her vassal,?The rooms of a reading young man.
In the days of our fathers how pleasant?The May Term up here must have been!?No chignons distracting were present,?And scarcely a bonnet was seen.?As the boats paddled round Grassy Corner?No ladies examined the crews,?Or exclaimed with the voice of the scorner--?'Look, how Mr. Arculus screws!!
But now there are ladies in College,?There are ladies in Chapels and Halls;?No doubt 'tis a pure love of knowledge?That brings them within our old walls;?For they talk about Goldie's 'beginning';?Know the meaning of 'finish' and 'scratch,'?And will bet even gloves on our winning?The Boat Race, Athletics, or Match.
There's nothing but music and dancing,?Bands playing on each College green;?And bright eyes are merrily glancing?Where nothing but books should be seen.?They tell of a grave Dean a fable,?That reproving an idle young man?He faltered, for on his own table?He detected in horror--a fan!
Through Libraries, Kitchens, Museums,?These Prussian-like Amazons rush,?Over manuscripts, joints, mausoleums,?With equal intensity gush.?Then making their due 'requisition,'?From 'the lions' awhile they refrain,?And repose in the perfect fruition?Of ices, cold fowl, and champagne.
Mr. Editor, answer my question--?When, O when, shall this tyranny cease??Shall the process of mental digestion?Ne'er find from the