And eyes of bright blue, as I lecture in Latin,
Fill my head with ideas quite remote from my theme.

"My life was once lonely, and almost ascetic;
But now, if I venture to walk in the street,
With her books in her hand, some fair Peripatetic
Is sure to address me with whisperings sweet.

"O, dear DR. OXYTONE, tell me the meaning
Of this terrible phrase, which I cannot make out;
And what is the Latin for "reaping" and "gleaning?"
Is "podagra" the Greek, or the Latin for "gout?"

"'And what do you mean by "paroemiac bases?"
Did the ladies in Athens wear heels very high?
_Do_ give me the rules for Greek accents, and Crasis?
Did CORNELIA drive out to dine in a fly?

"'When were bonnets first worn? was the toga becoming?
Were woman's rights duly respected in Rome?
What tune was that horrible Emperor strumming,
When all was on fire--was it _Home, Sweet Home_?"

"Such questions as these (sweetest questions!) assail me,
When I walk on our Trumpington-Road-Rotten-Row;
The voice of the charmer ne'er ceases to hail me
(Is it _wisely_ she charmeth?) wherever I go.

"Locked up in my rooms, I sigh wearily '_ohe!_'
But cards, notes, and letters pour in by each post;