THE MAY TERM.

Mille venit variis florum Dea nexa coronis:
Scena ioci morem liberioris habet.

OV. FAST. IV. 945, 946.


I wish that the May Term were over,
That its wearisome pleasures were o'er,
And I were reclining in clover
On the downs by a wave-beaten shore:
For fathers and mothers by dozens,
And sisters, a host without end,
Are bringing up numberless cousins,
Who have each a particular friend.

I'm not yet confirmed in misogyny--
They are all very well in their way--
But my heart is as hard as mahogany,
When I think of the ladies in May.
I shudder at each railway-whistle,
Like a very much victimized lamb;
For I know that the carriages bristle
With ladies invading the Cam.

Last week, as in due preparation