And OLLENDORFF for PLATO;

For songs august of heroes sung,
And epic hosts embattled,
Enforce some pidgin-Latin tongue
By every waiter prattled;

For nymphs, where o'er the fragrant pines
A sea-bright sun uprises,
Their fancy plays round primmest lines
Of prigs receiving prizes.

From Sir JOHN CHEKE to Dr. JEBB,
From CALVERLEY to MILTON,
Clear spirits burst the Sophist-web,
And rent the rook they built on.

WELLDON is falsely named in this,
For sure, in slighting Greek, he
Will Learning's final blessing miss,
Her [Greek: kalôs pepoiêke].

What though the urchin deem it "rot"
(Such hasty views we stoop'd to,
Not seeing how on earth they got
_Tetummenos_ from _Tupto_)

Still let us learn, not beastly facts,
The field of any booby,
But how thought acts and interacts,