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Τ Η Ε Β Ο Υ Τ Υ R Α Ν Τ.
See how he beats, whom he has just reviled,
Among my early inmates there was one,
The scorn alike and terror of the school;
Subtle, unfeeling, in his malice cool,
Fearless false, he aims alike to rule
By force and fraud : each idler is his tool, The timid fear him, and the prudent shun.
In vice unwearied, 'tis his daily joy To gun the ignorant, the good betray;
But chief, the sensitive and tender boy, Now to his arts, to lure, unwares, astray;
Then turn informer, and his dupe defame, Himself unharmed, and glorying in his shame.
THE LA TIN G R A M M A R.
The drilled dull lesson, forced down, word by word.
The Latin Grammar can I think again,
In patience, on that sickness of the heart,
When words of uncouth sound and rules of art, To me unmeaning, as replete with pain, Sought entrance first on my reluctant brain,
Till then indulged, I ne'er had known the smart Of task enforced : my memory could retain The hymn, or prayer, or ballad's simple strain,
Caught from those lips maternal, which impart Knowledge at once and pleasure, eye and ear To that mild teacher open still and clear;
But closed on him who seemed not to discern How kindness quickens, while disgust and fear
Palsy the mind, which ceases thence to learn.
E N D OF THE TER M.
In thoughtless gaiety, I course the plain,
THE TERM IS ENDED ! what more grateful sound
To mortal ears ! to toil-worn judge sedate,
To weary lawyer, doomed on courts to wait, And client, not less wearied, who has found His endless law-suit, for a rood of ground,
Engulfing acres ! Welcome is the date,
That turns the 'prentice from his master's gate, Or sees the minor with full freedom crowned.
But nor to minor, swelling with the pride
Of coming freedom; not when courts decide, Or jurors can agree; not from the bar
When learned counsel hasten, is their joy
Like his, the rapture of that term-worn boy, Released, and journeying to his home afar.
Ad now is confidence, the fresh o'erflow
Warm is the welcome from each well known face,
That smiles beneath that old paternal roof:
And manifold, as tender, is the proof
Each change, in form or manner, time has wrought,
Revive once more, with tenfold pleasure fraught.
But ah! how brief that pleasure — soon the thought
Or comes, so softened, that the pensive grief
THE PLAY GROUN D.
Fearless they leap, and every youngster feels
The sports of youth, and all the youthful train,
Each dear familiar object, to my sight
Returns, renewed, in all its old delight, As through these haunts, with mingled joy and pain,
I roam once more, they all are here again,
Each spot so loved of yore; with dexterous sleight, The marble glancing to its destined aim, The kite, the cricket, and the hardier game
Of foot ball, bounding o'er the trampled plain ; The glowing brow, flushed cheek, and eye of flame,
The toil to win, the effort to retain :
My boy, - with foot as restless in the chase,
THE SW I M M E R.
Flinging the billows back from drenched hair,
The glowing fervours of the summer sun
Make grateful now the stream, wherein to lave
Our languid limbs, and sport along the wave.
Lingering yet longing, fearful and yet brave,
He plunges headlong to the Nereid cave, Emerging soon, with spoils from Neptune won.
See too yon puny Cassius* of the tide
His Cæsar daring through the waves to glide, For yonder point, that distant lures the eye.
The stream they buffet now, with manly pride,
And lusty sinews, throwing it aside, With hearts of controversy, beating high !
*Julius Cæsar, Act I, Scene II.
THE SNOW FOR T.
Their sinews grow
Nor less our winter joys; 'tis now the time
For strenuous action : on each adverse height
The snow built fort provokes the hardy fight. By numbers guarded, yet can courage climb
The steep ascent; while passions, that incite
Man's later years to virtue's daring flight,
Ambition, valour, hope's aspiring aim,
Contempt of danger, generous thirst for fame, Give strength to fragile limbs; and force impart
Of manly daring to youth's slender frame.
Or statesman's policy; their hopes the same,
They ask no other gem, nor wealth,
'Tis evening, and the winter's sky is fair ;
Away with books then, and the musty rules
Of solemn pedants in their pent up schools ! While sloth lies slumbering on his easy chair,