MISCELLANEOUS VERSES. 



Tour learned wigs with horror 



Would fairly stand on end, 

 If you saw the sight that I do, 



As my neck I now extend ; 

 At this station your young hopefuls 



Stand in a thick array 

 Full many a " coach" in Cambridge 



Will miss his " pup" to-day ; 

 I should say with greater fervour 



Our approach they now observe, 

 Than ever they look out for 



The equation to a curve ; 

 I'd bet for many a week past 



They've been sadly prone to grapple 

 With the Volti-Dutchman problem 



At lecture room and chapel ; 

 Why were ye not more careful, 



And thus on Monday speak 

 <c Each man to-morrow keeps a hall, 



Or else he'll lose his week" ? 

 How thus they've cutely slipped you, 



The reason I will tell 

 Your treatises on Optics 



Take in no " Eye of Bell." 



Onward as our train still flies, 

 Classic prospects meet our eyes ; 

 There behold the Lincoln sod 

 Glorious Peter Simple trod ! 

 Lincoln race-course flings our fancy 

 Back to March and gay young Nancy 

 Who then thought that she could cure 

 The pride of Zetland's Voltigeur ? 

 On we go each covert near 

 Eung out once with Foljambe's cheer, 

 Ere his piercing eyes were dark. 

 Cherry Boniface George Clark 

 In yon silent church-yard bed 

 Slumbers with his kindred dead. 

 Dearly the veteran loved the stir 

 On the Great North Road to Doncaster ; 

 And to sporting pilgrims loved to retail 

 Stories of cracks and his nutbrown ale. 

 Doncaster now looms in sight, 

 Bife with recollections bright. 

 At yon tavern stood the sire 

 Of Lord Eglinton's brown flyer : 

 In that paddock near those ricks, 

 Once there roamed bay Crucifix, 

 Suckling with a matron's pride 



