Where art thou, learned Whewell? Thy “euge!” haste and utter; If tired of giving freshmen gruel, Come give the Prince fresh butter. If all be true that Cantabs state, Thy _cant_-ability is great. Come, meek of speech, and bland of style, Come, smile as thou wert wont to smile. At fairs, you know, for hats they grin, But here for mitres――come begin, Lack you a theme for laughter? better Think of your own election letter; Or of your epitaph――“Here Whewell lies, Master of Arts――that caused himself to rise.” IV. Throw up your caps in fury, O! Shout till you’re hot and red, _Tam marti, quam Mercurio_, Dear is your chosen head. He holds a _baton_ and its true, That Wellington can’t carry two. Waste ye the midnight oil by pails Your chieftain claims the Prince of Wales. At home his window-view explores Those classic scenes displayed, Where grateful science still adores Her Henry’s holy shade. He’s fit to rule, with gifts like these, Cam――nay, Kamskatcha――if he please. From _The Man in the Moon_. Vol. I. [Illustration] SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. _Born October_ 21, 1772. _Died July_ 25, 1834. ―――― The poetical fame of Coleridge rests principally upon _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_, and _Christabel_, both of which are so well known that it is quite unnecessary to reprint them, especially as Messrs. Ward, Lock & Co. have recently published a very cheap and handy edition of the miscellaneous poems of Coleridge, containing the above, as well as some other poems which, being less known, have not given rise to so many parodies. ――――:o:―――― THE ANCIENT MARINER. This weird poem was founded on a strange dream which a friend of Coleridge had, who fancied he saw a skeleton ship, with figures in it. Wordsworth wrote a few lines of it, and the idea of shooting an albatross appears to have been his. As Coleridge himself informs us, it was planned and partly composed during a walk with Wordsworth and his sister, in the autumn of 1797. It was first published in 1798, in a volume entitled “_Lyrical Ballads_, with a few other Poems,” Bristol, 1798. It is the opening poem of the volume, and is quaintly styled “_The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere_,” in seven parts. Most of the other poems in the volume were written by Wordsworth. The first version contained a stanza (the eleventh in Part III.) which has been omitted from all subsequent reprints: “His bones were black with many a crack, All black and bare I ween; Jet black and bare, save where with rust, Of mouldy damps and charnel crust They were patch’d with purple and green.” The First Part, which is that most frequently parodied, is given below:―― PART I