Sagittulae, Random Verses | Page 6

enemy peace??Above all if my name you should guess, Sir,?Keep it quite to yourself, if you can;?For I dread, more than words can express, Sir,?My affectionate friend Mary Ann.
(1871).
A TRAGEDY OF THE 19TH CENTURY.
"Et potis es nigrum vitio praefigere Delta."--PERSIUS.
It was a young Examiner, scarce thirty were his years,?His name our University loves, honours, and reveres:?He pondered o'er some papers, and a tear stood in his eye; He split his quill upon the desk, and raised a bitter cry-- 'O why has Fortune struck me down with this unearthly blow? "Why doom'd me to examine in my lov'd one's Little-go??"O Love and Duty, sisters twain, in diverse ways ye pull; "I dare not 'pass,' I scarce can 'pluck:' my cup of woe
is full.?"O that I ever should have lived this dismal day to see"! He knit his brow, and nerved his hand, and wrote the fatal D.

It was a lovely maiden down in Hertford's lovely shire;?Before her on a reading-desk, lay many a well-filled quire: The lamp of genius lit her eyes; her years were twenty-two; Her brow was high, her cheek was pale,
her bearing somewhat blue:?She pondered o'er a folio, and laboured to divine?The mysteries of "x_" and "_y," and many a magic sign:?Yet now and then she raised her eye, and ceased
awhile to ponder,?And seem'd as though inclined to allow her thoughts
elsewhere to wander,?A step was heard, she closed her book; her heart
beat high and fast,?As through the court and up the stairs a manly figure passed. One moment more, the opening door disclosed unto her view Her own beloved Examiner, her friend and lover true.?"Tell me, my own Rixator, is it First or Second Class?"?His firm frame shook, he scarce could speak,
he only sigh'd "Alas!"?She gazed upon him with an air serenely calm and proud--?"Nay, tell me all, I fear it not"--he murmured
sadly "Ploughed."?She clasped her hands, she closed her eyes as fell
the word of doom;?Full five times round in silence did she pace her little room; Then calmly sat before her books, and sigh'd "Rixator dear, "Give me the list of subjects to be studied for next year."
"My own brave Mathematica, my pupil and my pride,?"My persevering Student whom I destine for my bride;?"Love struggled hard with Duty, while the lover marked you B; "In the end the stern Examiner prevailed and gave you D.?"Mine was the hand that dealt the blow! Alas, against my will "I plucked you in Arithmetic--and can'st thou love me still?" She gazed upon him and her eye was full of love and pride-- "Nay these are but the trials, Love, by which
true love is tried.
"I never knew your value true, until you marked me D:?"D stands for dear, and dear to me you evermore shall be."

A year had passed, and she had passed, for morning,
noon, and night,?Her Euclid and her Barnard-Smith had been her sole delight. Soon "Baccalaurea Artium" was added to her name,?And Hitchin's groves, and Granta's courts resounded
with her fame;?And when Rixator hurried down one day by the express,?And asked if she would have him, I believe she answered "Yes." For now they live together, and a wiser, happier pair,?More learned and more loving, can scarce be found elsewhere; And they teach their children Euclid, and
their babies all can speak?French and German in their cradles, and at five
can write good Greek;?And he is a Professor and she Professoress,?And they never cease the Little-go in gratitude to bless; When love could not the Lover from the path of duty sway, And no amount of plucking could his Student fair dismay.
MORAL.
Faint heart ne'er won fair lady, if in love you would
have luck,?In wooing, as in warfare, trust in nothing else than pluck.
(1871).
"NUNC TE BACCHE CANAM."
'Tis done! Henceforth nor joy nor woe?Can make or mar my fate;?I gaze around, above, below,?And all is desolate.?Go, bid the shattered pine to bloom;?The mourner to be merry;?But bid no ray to cheer the tomb?In which my hopes I bury!
I never thought the world was fair;?That 'Truth must reign victorious';?I knew that Honesty was rare;?Wealth only meritorious.?I knew that Women might deceive,?And sometimes cared for money;?That Lovers who in Love believe?Find gall as well as honey.
I knew that "wondrous Classic lore"?Meant something most pedantic;?That Mathematics were a bore,?And Morals un-romantic.?I knew my own beloved light-blue?Might much improve their rowing:?In fact, I knew a thing or two?Decidedly worth knowing.
But thou!--Fool, fool, I thought that thou?At least wert something glorious;?I saw thy polished ivory brow,?And could not feel censorious.?I thought I saw thee smile--but that?Was all imagination;?Upon the garden seat I sat,?And gazed in adoration.
I plucked a newly-budding rose,?Our lips then met together;?We spoke not--but a lover knows?How lips two lives can tether.?We parted! I believed thee true;?I asked for no love-token;?But now thy form no more I view--?My Pipe, my Pipe, thou'rt broken!
Broken!--and when the Sun's