My dear Cambridge...

My dear Cambridge,

You have pulled it off,

As all men know.

This ode

Will make Oxford pretty sick;

But the spoils are to the victor.

If Oxford had rowed better

And won,

They should have had a nice new ode,

Like good boys;

But they have been and gone and lost,

And are, therefore,

Not fit subjects

For immortal verse.

Pah!

I pass by Oxford!

As for you, dear Cambridge,

Here's to you:

In spite of your long and honourable connection

With the manufacture

Of sossiges,

There appears to be something in you,

Which is more than can be said

For some of the sossiges.

Cambridge, my own,

You have won the bowt rice!

‘ Ave a drink!

What is the good of winning the bowt rice,

If you do n't‘ ave a drink?

I do n't know,

And I'm sure you do n't.

Also, what is the good

Of winning the bowt rice

At all?

I give it up.

Yes, I do really;

Please do let me give it up.

You have won;

You can afford to be generous;

Suffer me to indulge my little whim:

There is no good

In winning the bowt rice, Cambridge

No good at all.

On the other hand,

When I come to think of it

I am not quite sure

That to have rowed

In the Cambridge boat

Which won the bowt rice,

Is materially to have damaged

One's prospects or career:

At the very least, it makes one safe

For a tutor's job

At L per annum;

And what self-respecting person from Cambridge

Could wish for more?

I have heard of a man

Who rowed

In a winning Cambridge boat

And is now driving

A hansom cab.

And I have heard of another man

Who omitted to row

In a winning Cambridge boat

And is now driving a four-wheeler.

You see the difference, of course!

After all,

To row

In a winning Cambridge boat

Does give one

A sort of start in life,

And do n't you forget it.

Always remember, my dear Cambridge, who you are.

You licked Oxford by five lengths

In .

This is probably

All you will get

For your father's money.

Be thankful.