Edward Woodley Bowling

“ We'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father!
For though our vessel sank, our hearts were
buoyant as a feather,
Since we knew that we had done our best in
spite of wind and weather.
Then all ye Gods and Goddesses who rule o'er lake and river,
O wipe away the trembling tear which in mine eye doth quiver!
O wipe away the dire defeats that now we often suffer;
Let not the name of Cambridge blue be
breathed with that of "duffer!"
O melt the hearts of governors; for who can hope to thrive,
If, when we're just "together," they despoil us
of our "Five?" ”

“ Pull an oar, and wield the willow, and have won my double-blue;
How I ride, and play lawn tennis; how I make a claret cup;
Own the sweetest of bull terriers, and a grand St. Bernard pup.
'But believe me, since I've seen thee, all these
pleasures are a bore;
Life has now one only object fit to love and to adore;
Long in silence have I worshipped, long in secret have I sighed:
Tell me, beautiful Aesthesis, wilt thou be my blooming bride?'
'Sir Student,' quoth the maiden, 'you are really quite intense,
And I ever of this honour shall retain the highest sense ”

“ I have seen—no names I mention—certain oarsmen with a dash
Plunge their oars into the water, and produce
a sudden splash!
But the middle and the finish are all wasted in the air,
And no human constitution can such toil incessant bear;
For although the ship at starting may at once
its distance clear,
And victory seem certain, when the winning post is near,
The crew worn out and breathless have nothing in them left,
And though pluck may ne'er desert them, of
their vigour are bereft. ”

“ The lightest and the tightest who has ever
steered light-blue.
O when he pulls the yielding string may he
shoot both strong and straight,
And may the night be swift and sure of his mighty arrows eight!
May he add another victory to increase our Cambridge score;
May Father Thames again behold the light blue to the fore!
But ah! the name of Victory falls feebly on my ear—
Forgive me! 'tis not cowardice that bids me shed this tear,
I weep to think that three long years have
looked on our defeat;
For three long years we ne'er have known the
taste of triumph sweet ”

“ And Aesthesis, as she watched him with his swinging manly stride,
The 'double-blue' Athletes, of Trinity the pride,
Found it difficult entirely to eradicate love's dart,
As she listened to thy Lecture, Slade Professor of Fine Art.
And Ruskin, and the warblings of Whistler and Burne Jones,
And symphonies in colours, and sunset's silent tones,
Move her not as once they moved her, for she weeps in sorrow sore,
'O had I loved Athletes less, or he loved culture more!'
(1882) . ”

“ Nor parents dear, nor brothers stern, need foster fond alarms.
O! a tear of love maternal in Etona's eye will quiver
When she sees her favourate KINGLAKE also
monarch of the river.
Oh! that I could honour fitly in this unassuming song
That wondrous combination of steady, long, and strong.
Then comes a true-blue mariner from the ever-glorious "First,"
In the golden arms of Glory and the lap of Victory nurst;
Though blue may be his colours, there are better oarsmen few,
And Oxford when it sees him will perhaps look still more blue. ”

“ Then a nobler race of students, and of athletes
shall arise,
Students fair who thirst for knowledge, athletes
true who 'pots' despise.
It is well for thee, sweet Clio, at their harmless
tastes to sneer,
At their love of cats and croquet, their antipathy
to beer;
But as soon as every College has surrendered to the fair,
Life up here will be perfection, we shall breathe
ambrosial air;
For the problem of past ages will be solved, and
we shall find
The superior powers of woman, both in body and in mind. ”

“ Now the glacier blue they approach with blue noses,
When a yawning crevasse further progress opposes;
Already their troubles begin—here's the rub!
So they halt, and nem. con. call aloud for their grub.
From the fountain of pleasure will bitterness spring,
Yet why should the Muse aught but happiness sing?
No! let me the terrible anguish conceal
Of the hero whose guide had forgotten the veal! [1]
Now "all full inside" on the ice they embark:
The moon has gone down, and the morning is dark,
Dreary drizzles the rain, O, deny it who can,
There's no one so blest as the Alpine Club man! ”

“ I myself shall flee from Cambridge, sick at heart
and sorely vexed,
Ere I see my University disestablished and unsexed.'"
Thus she spake, and I endeavoured to console the
weeping Muse:
"Dry your tears, beloved Clio, drive away this
fit of blues.
Cease your soul with gloomy fancies and forebodings
to perplex;
You are doing gross injustice to the merits of your sex.
Know you not that things are changing, that the
Earth regains her youth,
Since Philosophers have brought to light the one
primeval truth? ”

“ CAMBRIDGE. Now, don't refuse, aquatic Muse, the glories to rehearse
Of the rival crew, who've donned light blue, to
row for better for worse.
They've lost their luck, but retain their pluck,
and whate'er their fate may be,
Light blue may meet one more defeat, but disgrace
they ne'er will see. ”

“ While Cambridge mathematics,
Though excellent in theory, prove
Unstable in aquatics.
Our muse, a maiden ne'er renowned
For pride, or self-reliance,
Knows little of the depths profound
Of "Telegraphic" science:
But now her peace she cannot hold
And like a true Camena,
With look half-blushing and half-bold,
Descends into the arena.
Sing who was he that steered to win,
In spite of nine disasters,
And proved that men who ne'er give in
Must in the end be masters? ”

“ More learned and more loving, can scarce be found elsewhere;
And they teach their children Euclid, and
their babies all can speak
French and German in their cradles, and at five
can write good Greek;
And he is a Professor and she Professoress,
And they never cease the Little-go in gratitude to bless;
When love could not the Lover from the path of duty sway,
And no amount of plucking could his Student fair dismay.
MORAL. Faint heart ne'er won fair lady, if in love you would
have luck,
In wooing, as in warfare, trust in nothing else than pluck. ”

“ Discretion's years and wisdom's teeth he plainly ne'er had seen;
For his step was light and jaunty, and around him wide and far
He puffed the fragrant odours of a casual cigar.
It was a sweet girl-graduate, her years were thirty two;
Her brow was intellectual, her whole appearance blue;
Her dress was mediaeval, and, as if by way of charm,
Six volumes strapped together she was bearing 'neath her arm.
'My beautiful Aesthesis,' the young man rashly cried,
'I am the young Athletes, of Trinity the pride;
I have large estates in Ireland, which ere long
will pay me rent ”

“ Overwhelm your loved light-blue.
But whatever to Cambridge happen,
Sons of Cam behave like men!
Rally round your royal Cap'en,
King of Lake, and King of Fen!
Fortune helps the brave who court her,
Only to yourselves be true;
And perhaps, on Putney's water,
Victory will crown light-blue. ”

“ Or toppling ice-crag, pulverize your bones;
O happy stroke, that makes immortal heroes
Of men who, otherwise, would be but zeroes!
What tho' no Alpine horn make music drear
O'er the lone snow which furnishes your bier;
Nor Alpine maiden strew your grave with posies
Of gentian, edelweiss, and Alpine roses?
"The Alpine Muse her iciest tears shall shed,
And 'build a stone-man' o'er your honour'd head,
Chamois and bouquetins the spot shall haunt,
With eagles, choughs, and lammergeyers gaunt;
The mountain marmots, marching o'er the snow,
Their yearly pilgrimage shall ne'er forego ”

“ By voice and exhortation keep your heroes to the mark.
Cheer the plucky, chide the cowards who to do
their work are loth,
And forbid them to grow torpid by indulging selfish sloth.
Fool! I know my words are idle! yet if any love remain;
If my honour be your glory, my discredit be your pain;
If a spark of old affection in your hearts be still alive!
Rally round old Father Camus, and his glories past revive!
Then adorned with reedy garland shall I take my former throne,
And, victor of proud Isis, reign triumphant and alone. ”

“ Are the pupils of Merton, and students of Girton,
increasing in numbers, or fewer?
Are they pretty, or plain? Humble-minded or
vain? Are they paler, or pinker, or bluer?
How's the party of stormers, our so-called
Reformers? Are Moral and Natural Sciences
Improving men's Minds? Who the money now
finds, for Museums, and all their appliances?
Is Philosophy thriving, or sound sense reviving?
Is high-table talk metaphysic?
Will dark blue or light have the best of the
fight, at Putney and Mortlake and Chiswick?
I often importune the favour of Fortune, that no
misadventure may cross us ”

“ Let politicians, if they please, rob freemen of their vote, Provided they leave Oxford men a FREEMAN for their boat. Among the crowd of oarsmen proud no name will fame shout louder Than his who sits at Number Two, the straight and upright CROWDER. Then RAIKES rows bow, and we must allow that with all the weight that's aft The bow-oar gives a rakish air to the bows o' the dark-blue craft. This is the crew, who've donned dark blue, and no stouter team of Oxon Has ploughed the waves of old Father Thames, or owned a better Cox'en. ”

“ Though at thy altar ne'er I bend the knee,
Though o'er thy "Asses' Bridge" I never pass,
And ne'er in this respect will prove an ass;
Still let mild mercy thy fierce anger quell! oh
Let, let me live to be a Johnian fellow!
* * * * * *
She hears me not! with heart as hard as lead,
She hurls a Rhombus at my luckless head.
Lo, where her myrmidons, a wrangling crew,
With howls and yells rise darkling to the view.
There Algebra, a maiden old and pale,
Drinks "double x," enough to drown a whale. ”

“ Our hay's not worth carting; the wheat's much the same;
Our pigs and our cattle are always astray;
Our milk's good-for-nothing; our hens never lay.
Tom ain't a bad husband, as husbands do go;
(That ain't saying much, as I daresay you know)
But there's one thing that puts him and me out o' gear—
He's always a craving for one glass of Beer.
He never gets drunk, but he's always half-fuddled;
He wastes all his time, and his wits are all muddled;
"We've notice to quit for next Michaelmas year—
All owing to Tom and his one glass of Beer!" ”

“ In which our heavy carcases may o'er the waters float?"
Then laughed aloud Loganus—a bitter jest lov'd he—
And he cried "Such heavy mariners I ne'er before did see;
I have a fast commodious barge, drawn by a wellfed steed,
'Twill scarcely bear your weight, I fear: for never
have I see'd
Eight men so stout wish to go out a rowing in a 'height;'
Why, gentlemen, a man of war would sink beneath your weight." ”

“ Art thou soulful? Art thou tuneful? Cans't thou
weep o'er nature's woes?
Art thou redolent of Ruskin? Dost thou love a yellow rose?
'Hast thou bathed in emanations from the canvass of Burne Jones?
As thou gazest at a Whistler, doth it whistle wistful tones?
Art thou sadly sympathetic with a symphony in blue?
Tell me, tell me, gentle Student, art thou really quite tootoo?'
''Pon my word,' replied the Student, 'this is coming
it too strong:
I can sketch a bit at Lecture, and can sing a comic song ”

“ A pint wi' your dinner ain't no great affair—
But the time' o' the day as suits Polly and me,
Is when we sits down of an evenin' to tea.
For the young 'uns sits round us all smilin' and clean;
And Sally knits stockings wot's fit for the Queen;
Little Bill reads a book, and Jemima she sews,
And how happy our home is the parish all knows.
* * * * * *
Now young men and maids, if ye'll listen to me,
I'll give you some counsel all gratis and free—
Young men if you want to be happy in life,
Remember Bill Stumps, and look out for a wife. ”

“ But to honest hard work, perseverance, and pluck.
Don't turn up your nose at a hard-working chap,
For pride soon or later must meet with mishap;
And wherever your lot in the world may be cast,
"Slow and steady" goes safer than "foolish and fast."
Take warning by Fred, and avoid for a friend
The man who would tempt you your savings to spend;
Don't waste your spare money in riotous pranks,
But put it in Penny, or Post-office Banks.
BEDFORDSHIRE BALLAD.—IV. HOME, SWEET HOME. I'm a Bedfordshire Chap, and Bill Stumps is my name,
And to tell it don't give me no manner of shame ”

“ 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;
From PHYLLIS, EUPHROSYNE, PHIDYLE, CHLOE,
AMARYLLIS and JANE, and a numberless host.
"And now, I must take either poison or blue-pill,
For things cannot last very long as they are." ”

“ Then calmly sat before her books, and sigh'd "Rixator dear,
"Give me the list of subjects to be studied for next year."
"My own brave Mathematica, my pupil and my pride,
"My persevering Student whom I destine for my bride;
"Love struggled hard with Duty, while the lover marked you B;
"In the end the stern Examiner prevailed and gave you D.
"Mine was the hand that dealt the blow! Alas, against my will
"I plucked you in Arithmetic—and can'st thou love me still?"
She gazed upon him and her eye was full of love and pride—
"Nay these are but the trials, Love, by which
true love is tried. ”