The first song which concerns the Order of Wandering Students in general has been attributed to the Archipoeta or head-bard of the guild. Whoever this poet may have been, it is to him that we owe the _Confession of Golias_, by far the most spirited composition of the whole Goliardic species. I do not think the style of the poem on the Order, though it belongs to a good period, justifies our ascribing it to so inspired and genial a lyrist. The argument runs as follows. Just as commission was given to the Apostles to go forth and preach in the whole world, so have the Wandering Students a vocation to travel, and to test the hearts of men wherever they may sojourn. A burlesque turn is given to this function of the _Vagi_. Yet their consciousness of a satiric mission, their willingness to pose as critics of society from the independent vantage-ground of vagabondage, seems seriously hinted at. The chief part of the song is devoted to a description of the comprehensive nature of the Order, which receives all sorts and conditions of men, and makes no distinction of nationality. The habitual poverty of its members, their favourite pastimes and vices, their love of gaming and hatred of early rising, are set forth with some humour. ON THE ORDER OF WANDERING STUDENTS. No. 1. At the mandate, Go ye forth, Through the whole world hurry! Priests tramp out toward south and north, Monks and hermits skurry, Levites smooth the gospel leave, Bent on ambulation; Each and all to our sect cleave, Which is life's salvation. In this sect of ours 'tis writ: Prove all things in season; Weigh this life and judge of it By your riper reason; 'Gainst all evil clerks be you Steadfast in resistance, Who refuse large tithe and due Unto your subsistence. Marquesses, Bavarians, Austrians and Saxons, Noblemen and chiefs of clans, Glorious by your actions! Listen, comrades all, I pray, To these new decretals: Misers they must meet decay, Niggardly gold-beetles. We the laws of charity Found, nor let them crumble; For into our order we Take both high and humble; Rich and poor men we receive, In our bosom cherish; Welcome those the shavelings leave At their doors to perish. We receive the tonsured monk, Let him take his pittance; And the parson with his punk, If he craves admittance; Masters with their bands of boys, Priests with high dominion; But the scholar who enjoys Just one coat's our minion! This our sect doth entertain Just men and unjust ones; Halt, lame, weak of limb or brain, Strong men and robust ones; Those who flourish in their pride, Those whom age makes stupid; Frigid folk and hot folk fried In the fires of Cupid.