II. But hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth, With steps, alas, too slow, The College GYPS, of high illustrious worth, With all the dishes in long order, go. In the midst a form divine, Appears the fam’d sir-loin; And soon, with plums and glory crown’d, Almighty pudding sheds its sweets around. Heard ye the din of dinner bray? Knife to fork, and fork to knife; Unnumber’d heroes, in the glorious strife, Thro’ fish, flesh, pies, and puddings cut their destin’d way. III. See, beneath the mighty blade Gor’d with many a ghastly wound, Low the fam’d sir-loin is laid And sinks in many a gulf profound. Arise, arise, ye sons of glory, Pies and puddings stand before ye; See the ghosts of hungry bellies Point at yonder stand of jellies; While such dainties are beside ye, Snatch the goods the gods provide ye; Mighty rulers of this state, Snatch before it is too late; For, swift as thought, the puddings, jellies, pies, Contract their giant bulks, and shrink to pigmy size. IV. From the table now retreating All around the fire they meet, And with wine, the sons of eating, Crown at length their mighty treat; Triumphant Plenty’s rosy graces Sparkle in their jolly faces; And mirth and cheerfulness are seen In each countenance serene. Fill high the sparkling glass, And drink th’ accustom’d toast;[38] Drink deep ye mighty host And let the bottle pass. Begin, begin the jovial strain, Fill, fill the mystic bowl, And drink, and drink, and drink again; For drinking fires the soul. But soon, too soon, with one accord, they reel Each on his seat begins to nod; All conquering Bacchus’ pow’r they feel, And pour libations to the jolly god. At length, with dinner, and with wine, oppress’d, Down in the chairs they sink, and give themselves to rest. From _The Gradus ad Cantabrigiam_. By a Brace of Cantabs. London. Printed for John Hearne, 1824. It had previously appeared in _The Spirit of the Public Journals for 1799_. London, 1800. ―――― ODE TO A WRANGLER’S SPREAD.