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For thee the women's squall, the cleaver's chop,
Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe.
Vocal no more, since Monday's fatal night,

To Thirlwall's keen remark, or Sheridan's* wild flight.

I. 3.

Mute now is Raymond's* tongue,

That hushed the club to sleep;

The patriot Whitcomb* now has ceased to rail:
Waiters, in vain ye weep.

Lawson, whose annual song

Made the RED LION† wag his raptur'd tail. Dear lost companions in the spouting art,

Dear as the common smoking in the hall, Dear as the Audit Ale, that warms my heart, Ye fell amidst the dying UNION's fall.

II. 1.

Weave the warp, and weave the woof,

The winding sheet of J-mmy's race;
Give ample room and verge enough-

To mark revenge, defeat, disgrace.
Mark the month, and mark the day,
The senate echoing widely with the fray;
Commoner, sizar, pensioner, and snob,
Shouts of an undergraduate mob.

*Speakers of the Society.

† A magnificent, though bold figure. The Red Lion (which is the sign of the inn at which the UNION assembled), and which is a remarkably handsome lion of the kind, is described as wagging his tail, in testimony of the pleasure he felt at the goings on within.


Master of a mighty college,

Without his robe behold him stand; Whom not a Whig will now acknowledge, Return his bow, or shake his hand.

Is the sable Jackson filed?

Thy friend is gone-he hides his powder'd head. The Bedells, too, by whom the mace is borne ? Gone to salute the rising morn.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows;

While, gently sidling through the crowded street, In scarlet robe, Clare's* tiny master goes,

Ware + clears the road, and Gunning† guides his feet, Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,

That, hush'd in green repose, marks J-mmy's for its prey.

II. 4.

Fill the Audit bowl!

The feast in hall prepare!

'Reft of his robes, he yet may share the feast, Close by the master's chair.

Contempt and laughter scowl

A baneful smile upon their baffled guest.--
Heard ye the din of battle bray,

Gown to gown, and cap to cap?

Hark at the Johnian gates each thund'ring rap,

While through opposing Dons they move their way.

Ye Johnian towers, old W-d's eternal shame,

*The Vice-chancellor elect.

+ Two of the Esquire Bedells.

With many a midnight imposition fed, Revere his Algebra's immortal fame,

And spare the meek mechanic's holy head. Each bristled boar will bear no more,

And, meeting in the combination-room, They stamp their vengeance deep, and ratify his doom.

III. 1.

J-mmy, lo! to sudden fate

(Pass the wine-the liquor's good)

Half of thy year we consecrate :

The web is now what was the word.
But mark the scene beneath the senate's height:
See the petition's crowded skirts unroll;
Visions of glory spark my aching sight,

Unborn commencements crowd not on my soul.
No more our Kaye,* our Thackery,* we bewail;
All hail! thou genuine prince!+ Brittania's issue, hail!

III. 2.

Heads of houses, doctors bold,

Sublime the hoods and wigs they rear ;

Masters young and fellows old

In bombazeen and silk appear; In the midst a form divine,His eye proclaims him of the British line. What cheers of triumph thunder through the air, While the full tide of youthful thanks is poured! Hear from your chambers, Price and Hibbert,‡ hear;

* Former Vice-chancellors.
†The Chancellor.

Speakers of the society.

The oppressor shrinks, the UNION is restored. The treasurer flies to spread the news he brings, And wears, for triumph's sake, yet larger clitterings.

III. 3.

"Fond impious man, think'st thou thy puny fist,

Thy Wood-en sword, has broke a British club? The treasurer soon augments our growing list,— We rise more numerous from this transient rub. Enough for me: with joy I see

The different dooms our fates assign; Be thine contempt and big-wigg'd care,— To triumph, and to die, are mine.”

He spoke, and headlong from the window's height, Deep in a dung-cart near, he plunged to endless night.†


In his youthful days, the learned doctor happened to be present at a musical party, when a lady's MANTUA, unfortunately, swept from the table a valuable CREMONA, to her no small consternation, and the great grief of the musician. On this occasion, the facetious doctor made the happiest application of a passage of Virgil, on record :—

"MANTUA ræ! misereræ nimium vicina CREMONE."

The UNION is now restored, but the discussions are restricted to political events previous to 1800.


Porson being at a party, where a certain classical lecturer, of Trinity College, was ridiculed for his pronunciation of nimirum (which he pronounced nimirum), pretended warmly to defend him, to the no small astonishment of his friends; and, being asked the reason, the Greek professor, with inimitable wit, replied," That it was by no means surprising that the learned lecturer had erred respecting this word, for that Horace himself had declared, in his Epistle to Claudius, that there was but one man in the Roman Empire who really understood it.

'Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus." "


The Greek professor, Porson, was very fond of crabfish, and, being at a friend's one night to sup, he intimated a wish to have his appetite indulged. This friend jocularly replied, that he should have the finest in St. James's Market, if he would go thither, buy, and bring it home, himself. Porson, to his astonishment, took him at his word, and marched through some of the gayest streets in London, with the crab under his arm.


We are confident our readers will require no apology for our introducing a grave subject amongst the facetia, when they read the following singular whim of a well

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