Behold! I Am Not One That Goes To Lectures.'

By W. W.      Behold! I am not one that goes to Lectures or the pow-wow of Professors.      The elementary laws never apologise: neither do I apologise.      I find letters from the Dean dropt on my table--and every one is signed by the Dean's name--      And I leave them where they are; for I know that as long as I stay up      Others will punctually come for ever and ever.      I am one who goes to the river,      I sit in the boat and think of 'life' and of 'time.'      How life is much, but time is more; and the beginning is everything,      But the end is something.      I loll in the Parks, I go to the wicket, I swipe.      I see twenty-two young men from Foster's watching me, and the trousers of the twenty-two young men,      I see the Balliol men en masse watching me.--The Hottentot that loves his mother, the untutored Bedowee, the Cave-man that wears only his certificate of baptism, and the shaggy Sioux that hangs his testamur with his scalps.      I see the Don who ploughed me in Rudiments watching me: and the wife of the Don who ploughed me in Rudiments watching me.      I see the rapport of the wicket-keeper and umpire.    I cannot see that I am out.      Oh! you Umpires!      I am not one who greatly cares for experience, soap, bull-dogs, cautions, majorities, or a graduated Income-Tax,      The certainty of space, punctuation, sexes, institutions, copiousness, degrees, committees, delicatesse, or the fetters of rhyme--      For none of these do I care: but least for the fetters of rhyme.      Myself only I sing.    Me Imperturbe!    Me Prononce!      Me progressive and the depth of me progressive,      And the bathos, Anglice bathos      Of me chanting to the Public the song of Simple Enumeration.