When tipplers cease on wretchedness to think,
Those born to sell, as well as these to drink;
When every day each merry Andrew clears
More cash than useful men in many years;
When men to business come, or come to rake,
And modest women spurn at Pope's mistake.[08]

"All hail, Commencement! when all colors join,
To gamble, riot, quarrel, and purloin;
When Afric's sooty sons, a race forlorn,
Play, swear, and fight, like Christians freely born;
And Indians bless our civilizing merit,
And get dead drunk with truly _Christian spirit_;
When heroes, skilled in pocket-picking sleights,
Of equal property and equal rights,
Of rights of man and woman, boldest friends,
Believing means are sanctioned by their ends,
Sequester part of Gripus' boundless store,
While Gripus thanks god Plutus he has more;
And needy poet, from this ill secure,
Feeling his fob, cries, 'Blessed are the poor.'"

On the same subject, the writer of Our Chronicle of '26, a
satirical poem, versifies in the following manner:--

"Then comes Commencement Day, and Discord dire
Strikes her confusion-string, and dust and noise
Climb up the skies; ladies in thin attire,
For 't is in August, and both men and boys,
Are all abroad, in sunshine and in glee