The Battle Of The Pons Trium Trojanorum: A lay sung in the Temple of Minerva Girtanensis.

A lay sung in the Temple of Minerva Girtanensis.     [NOTE. - On Thursday, February 24th, 1881, three Graces were submitted to the Senate of the University of Cambridge, confirming the Report of The Syndicate appointed June 3rd, 1880, to consider four memorials relating to the Higher Education of Women.    The first two Graces were passed by majorities of 398 and 258 against 32 and 26 respectively; the third was unopposed.    The allusions in the following lay will probably be understood only by those who reside in Cambridge; but it may be stated that Professor Kennedy, Professor Fawcett, and Sir C. Dilke gave their votes and influence in favour of The Graces, while Dr. Guillemard, Mr. Wace, Mr. Potts, Professor Lumby, Dr. Perowne, Mr. Horne and Mr. Hamblin Smith voted against The Graces.]         I         Aemilia Girtonensis,             By the Nine Muses swore         That the great house of Girton             Should suffer wrong no more.         By the Muses Nine she swore it,             And named a voting day,         And bade her learned ladies write,         And summon to the impending fight             Their masters grave and gay.         II.         East and West and South and North             The learned ladies wrote,         And town and gown and country             Have read the martial note.         Shame on the Cambridge Senator             Who dares to lag behind,         When light-blue ladies call him             To join the march of mind.         III.         But by the yellow Camus             Was tumult and affright:         Straightway to Pater Varius             The Trojans take their flight -         'O Varius, Father Varius,             'To whom the Trojans pray,         'The ladies are upon us!             'We look to thee this day!'         IV.         There be thirty chosen Fellows,             The wisest of the land,         Who hard by Pater Varius             To bar all progress stand:         Evening and morn the Thirty             On the Three Graces sit,         Traced from the left by fingers deft             In the great Press of Pitt.         V.         And with one voice the Thirty             Have uttered their decree -         'Go forth, go forth, great Varius,             'Oppose the Graces Three!         'The enemy already             'Are quartered in the town,         'And if they once the Tripos gain,             'What hope to save the gown?'         VI.         'To Hiz, [1] the town of Offa,             'Their classes first they led,         'Then onward to Girtonia             'And Nunamantium sped:         'And now a mighty army             'Of young and beardless girls         'Beneath our very citadel             'A banner proud unfurls.'         VII.         Then out spake Father Varius,             No craven heart was his:         'To Pollmen and to Wranglers             'Death comes but once, I wis.         'And how can man live better,             'Or die with more renown,         'Than fighting against Progress             'For the rights of cap and gown?'         VIII.         'I, with two more to help me,             'Will face yon Graces Three;         'Will guard the Holy Tripod,             'And the M.A. Degree.         'We know that by obstruction             'Three may a thousand foil.         'Now who will stand on either hand             'To guard our Trojan soil?'         IX.         Then Parvue Mariensis,             Of Bearded Jove the Priest,         Spake out 'of Trojan warriors             'I am, perhaps, the least,         'Yet will I stand at thy right hand.'             Cried Pottius - 'I likewise         'At thy left side will stem the tide             'Of myriad flashing eyes.         X.         Meanwhile the Ladies' Army,             Right glorious to behold,         Came clad in silks and satins bright,             With seal-skins and with furs bedight,         And gems and rings of gold.             Four hundred warriors shouted         'Placet' with fiendish glee,             As that fair host with fairy feet,             And smiles unutterably sweet,             Came tripping each towards her seat,         Where stood the dauntless Three.         XI.         The Three stood calm and silent,             And frowned upon their foes,         As a great shout of laughter             From the four hundred rose:         And forth three chiefs came spurring             Before their ladies gay,         They faced the Three, they scowled and scoffed,         Their gowns they donned, their caps they doffed,             Then sped them to the fray.         XII.         Generalis Post-Magister,             Lord of the Letter-bags;         And Dilkius Radicalis,             Who ne'er in combat lags;         And Graecus Professorius,             Beloved of fair Sabrine,         From the grey Elms - beneath whose shade         A hospitable banquet laid,         Had heroes e'en of cowards made. -             Brought 'placets' thirty-nine.         XIII         Stout Varius hurled 'non placet'             At Post-Magister's head:         At the mere glance of Pottius             Fierce Radicalis fled:         And Parvus Mariensis -             So they who heard him tell -         Uttered but one false quantity,             And Professorius fell!                     *            *            *            *         XIV.         But fiercer still and fiercer             Fresh foemen sought the fray.         And fainter still and fainter             Stout Varius stood at bay.         'O that this too, too solid             Flesh would dissolve,' he sighed;         Yet still he stood undaunted,             And still the foe defied.         XV.         Then Pollia Nunamensis,             A student sweetly fair,         Famed for her smiles and dimples             Blue eyes and golden hair,             Of Cupid's arrows seized a pair,                     One in each eye she took:             Cupid's best bow with all her might             She pulled - each arrow winged its flight,             And straightway reason, sense, and sight                     Stout Varius forsook.         XVI.         'He falls' - the Placets thundered,             And filled the yawning gap;         In vain his trusty comrades             Avenge their chief's mishap -                     His last great fight is done.         'They charge!    Brave Pottius prostrate lies,         No Rider helps him to arise:         They charge!    Fierce Mariensis dies.                     The Bridge, the Bridge is won!         XVII.         In vain did Bencornutus             Flash lightnings from his beard;         In vain Fabrorum Maximus             His massive form upreared;         And Lumbius Revisorius -             Diviner potent he! -         And Peronatus robed in state,         And fine old Fossilis sedate,         All vainly stemmed the tide of fate -                     Triumphed the Graces Three!         XVIII.         But when in future ages             Women have won their rights,         And sweet girl-undergraduates             Read through the lamp-lit nights;         When some, now unborn, Pollia             Her head with science crams;         When the girls make Greek Iambics,             And the boys black-currant jams;         XIX.         When the goodman's shuttle merrily             Goes flashing through the loom,         And the good wife reads her Plato             In her own sequestered room;         With weeping and with laughter             Still shall the tale be told,         How pretty Pollia won the Bridge             In the brave days of old.         (1881).     [1] The ancient name of Hitchin.