II

Though he be green as grass is,

And fresh as new-mown hay

Before the first year passes

His verdure fades away.

His hopes now faintly glimmer,

Grow dim and ever dimmer,

And with a parting shimmer

Melt into‘ common day.’

He cares no more for Liddell

Or Scott; and Smith, and White,

And Lewis, Short, and Riddle

Are‘ emptied of delight.’

Todhunter and Colenso

( Alas, that friendships end so! )

He curses in extenso

Through morning, noon, and night.

No more with patient labour

The midnight oil he burns,

But unto some near neighbour

His fair young face he turns,

To share the harmless tattle

Which bejants love to prattle,

As wise as infant's rattle

Or talk of coots and herns.

At midnight round the city

He carols wild and free

Some sweet unmeaning ditty

In many a changing key;

And each succeeding verse is

Commingled with the curses

Of those whose sleep disperses

Like sal volatile.

He shaves and takes his toddy

Like any fourth year man,

And clothes his growing body

After another plan

Than that which once delighted

When, in the days benighted,

Like some wild thing excited

About the fields he ran.