SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMPS.

My Juggins, see: the pasture green,

Obeying Nature's kindly law,

Renews its mantle; there has been

A thaw.

The frost-bound earth is free at last,

That lay‘ neath Winter's sullen yoke

‘ Till people felt it getting past

A joke.

Now forth again the Freshers fare,

And get them tasty summer suits

Wherein they flaunt afield and scare

The brutes.

Again the stream suspects the keel;

Again the shrieking captain drops

Upon his crew; again the meal

Of chops

Divides the too-laborious day;

Again the Student sighs o'er Mods,

And prompts his enemies to lay

Long odds.

Again the shopman spreads his wiles;

Again the organ-pipes, unbound,

Distract the populace for miles

Around.

Then, Juggins, ere December's touch

Once more the wealth of Spring reclaim,

Since each successive year is much

The same;

Since too the monarch on his throne

In purple lapped and frankincense,

Who from his infancy has blown

Expense,

No less than he who barely gets

The boon of out-of-door relief,

Must see desuetude,— come let's

Be brief.

At those resolves last New Year's Day

The easy gods indulgent wink.

Then downward, ho!— the shortest way

Is drink.