Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. III

Parodies
Then shook the floor to twinkling feet,
     While some did dance and some did eat,
     Or strove to stay the increasing heat
         By swallowing ices hastily.

     But shorter yet these lights shall burn,
     And faster yet the waltzers turn,
     Before the chaperones discern
         That day is surely slipping in.

     ’Tis morn; but all that’s young and fair
     Of Seacliff beauties linger there,
     Full loath to seek the outer air
         And leave the hall they’re tripping in.

     The ball is over. Read ye now
     Who read for honours,――or a plough,
     May Oxford’s laurels grace the brow
         Of him who works most steadily.

     Too soon we part; but when we meet
     In bonds of recollections sweet,
     We’ll chat of Seacliff’s snug retreat
         That welcomed us so readily.

                                          L. E. S.

  From _College Rhymes_. W. Mansell, Oxford, 1861.

                           ――――

                       BELTON.[19]
                   (August 12, 1863.)

     At Belton, ere the twilight grew,
     Untrodden was the avenue,
     Save by Papas and Mas a few
         With their sight-seeing progeny.

     But Belton saw another sight,
     When the mob came at nine at night,
     And with a thousand flambeaux light
         Illumined all her scenery.

     With od’rous torch and British cheer,
     To Brownlow’s home they drew them near,
     His Lordship’s honour――not his beer――
         The motive of their revelry.

     Forth flowed the ale. Ye know not its
     Peculiar virtues, O ye cits,
     ’Twould beat e’en Burton tap to fits,
         Though Bass be its auxiliary.

     And hours that amber stream shall flow,
     And men shall come and scorn to go,
     The thirsty souls shall thirstier grow,
         Though quarts it empties rapidly.

     ’Tis midnight. For one “level son,”
     A hundred bawl they “havn’t done,”
     And as the barrels run and run,
         Shout in their beery jollity.

     The beer grows thicker: now they go――
     They could not drink for aye, you know――
     Grantham thy banners (calico)
         Should wave o’er these (thy chivalry?).

     Few, few can stand, though all have feet,
     They need no counterpane or sheet,
     When ev’ry turf that e’er they meet
         Destroys a perpendicular.

                           ――――

                          BILLS.

     AT Oxford when my funds were low,
     And I was ploughed for “Little-go,”
     How fast and furious was the flow
         Of Bills that came in rapidly!

     But Oxford saw another sight,
     When my rich aunt went off one night,
     For then I’d gold, and cheques could write,
         And shopkeepers came fawningly:

     “Our stupid clerks the error made,
     _We_ never were the least afraid
     About our small bills being paid;”
         And so they went on lyingly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. III

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