Read, quickly read, for your honours, ye Oxford men! Why don’t you read Greek and Latin in order? Pass o’er the Ass’s Bridge, sons of the Cambridge Fen! All the Blue Stockings are crossing the Border! Their banner is flying, They’re “victory” crying, They’ll solve every problem in Euclid before ye―― Come from the rowing match, Glee club, and merry catch, Read for a class and the old College glory! Ye Dons and Professors, arise from your slumbers, Open your books,――set your studies in order―― The danger is pressing in spite of your numbers, For the Blue Stockings are crossing the Border. Descend from your Tilburies, Gents of the long robe, Read briefs――for their steps to the Woolsack they bend: The depths of your science, ye Doctors, they’ll soon probe, With old Esculapius the _Blues_ would contend! Their clack is resounding, With hard words abounding, Steam guns their weapons, which cause great disorder. By Gas they’re enlightened―― By nothing they’re frightened, The dauntless Blue Stockings who pass’d o’er the Border. Read for your honors, then, Oxford and Cambridge men! Look, lawyers, look, are your Green Bags in order? Oh! Sons of Galen, you will not escape the ken Of the Blue Stockings who pass’d o’er the Border! Look well to your counsels, ye sage Politicians―― They’ll change all your projects and plans for the State; Examine your arguments, Metaphysicians―― In every department the Blues are first-rate. Famed Craniologists! Learned Phrenologists! You’ll find, though each bump in their skulls is in order; _The organ of Prying_ All others defying, Stands first in the Blues who are crossing the Border. Strain every nerve, then, all ye who have place and sway, From Wellington down to the City Recorder. Ye’ll be found bunglers, in office unfit to stay, If the Blue Stockings come over the Border. Stand to your posts, ye adepts in Astronomy, A comet they’ll see whilst your glass ye arrange―― Find out some fault in Dame Nature’s economy―― Spots in the moon, which betoken a change. Quake, ye Geologists! Tremble, Conchologists! Put Retorts and Crucibles, Chemists, in order! Beware, Antiquarians, They’re Disciplinarians, These _talented_ Blues who are passing the Border! Put on your spectacles, star-gazing gentlemen―― Steam-boat inventors, avoid all disorder―― If there’s a blunder committed by Englishmen, Each Blue will see it who passes the Border!