The clock struck seven--in social compact joined, They pledged their sacred honors to proceed: The number seventy-five this feat designed: And first some oaths they swore by candle light On Euclid' Elements--no bible did they need: One must be true, they said, the other might-- Besides, no bible could be found that night. Now darkness o'er the plain her pinions spread, Then rung the bell an unaccustomed peal: Out rushed the brave, the cowards went to bed, And left the attempt to those who felt full bold To pull down halls, where years had seen them kneel: Where Wheelock oft at rakes was wont to scold, Or sung them many a psalm, in days of old. Advancing then towards the tottering hall, (That now at least one hundred years had stood) They gave due notice that it soon should fall-- Lest there some godly wight might gaping stand; (For well they knew the world wants all its good To fright the sturdy sinners of the land, And shame old Satan, with his sooty band.) The reverend man that college gentry awes, Hearing the bell at this unusual hour, Vext at the infringement of the college laws, With Indian stride out-sallied from his den, And made a speech (as being a man in power)-- Alas! it was not heard by one in ten-- No time to heed his speeches, or his pen. "Ah, rogues, said he, ah, whither do ye run, "Bent on the ruin of this antique pile-- "That, all the war, has braved both sword and gun? "Reflect, dear boys, some reverend rats are there, "That now will have to scamper many a mile, "For whom past time old Latin books did spare, "And Attic Greek, and manuscripts most rare. "Relent, relent! to accomplish such designs "Folks bred on college fare are much too weak; "For such attempts men drink your high-proof wines, "Not spiritless switchel[A] and vile hogo drams, "Scarcely sufficient to digest your Greek-- "Come, let the college stand, my dear black lambs-- "Besides--I see you have no battering rams." [A] A mixture of molasses and water.--_Freneau's note._ Thus he--but sighs, and tears, and prayers were lost-- So, to it they went with broad-axe, spade, and hammer-- One smote a wall, and one dislodged a post, Tugged at a beam, or pulled down pigeon-holes Where Indian lads were wont to study grammar-- Indeed, they took vast pains and dug like moles, And worked as if they worked to save their souls. Now to its deep foundation shook the dome: Farewell to all its learning, fame and honor! So fell the capitol of heathen Rome, By Goths and Vandals levelled with the dust-- And so shall die the works of Neal O'Connor, (Which he himself will even outlive, we trust:) But now our story's coming to the worst--