With jarring found the porter turn the key, Then, in his dreary manfion flumb'ring, waits And flowly, fternly quits it.... Tho' for me. Now fhine the spires beneath the paly Moon And thro' the cloyfter peace and filence reign; Save where fome fiddler fcrapes a drowsy tune, Or copious bowls infpire a jovial strain. Save that in yonder Cobwed-mantled Room, Where lies a Student in profound repose, Opprefs'd with Ale, wide echos thro' the Gloom, The droning mufic of his vocal Nofe. Within thofe Walls, where thro' the glimm'ring fhade Appear the Pamphlets in a mould'ring heap, Each in his narrow bed till morning laid, The peaceful Fellows of the College fleep. The tinkling Bell proclaiming early Prayers, Ne'er rouse these Sleepers from their downy bed. No chatt'ring Females crowd their focial fire, Unfelt the plagues of Matrimonial Life. Oft Oft have they bask'd along the funny walls, Oft have the benches bow'd beneath their weight: How jocund are their looks when Dinner calls! How smoke the Cutlets on their crowded Plate ! O let not Temp'rance, too-difdainful, hear How long our Feasts, how long our Dinners laft; Nor let the Fair, with a contemptuous fnecr, On these unmarried men Reflections caft! The fplendid Fortune and the Beauteous Face Too foon are caught by Scarlet and by Lace: Forgive, ye Fair, th' involuntary fault, If these no Feats of Gaiety difplay, Where thro' proud Ranelagh's wide-echoing vault Melodious Frafi thrills her quav'ring lay. Say, Say, is the Sword well fuited to the Band, Does broider'd coat agree with fable Gown, Can Drefden's laces fhade a Churchman's hand, Or Learning's Vot'ries ape the Beaux of Town? Perhaps in these time-tott'ring walls refide Some who were once the Darlings of the Fair ; Some who of old could Tastes and Fashions guide, Controul the Manager and awe the Play'r. But Science now has fill'd their vacant mind With Rome's rich fpoils and Truth's exalted Views ; Fir'd them with transports of a nobler kind, And bade them flight all females. but the Mufe. Full many a lark, high-tow'ring to the sky, Unheard, unheeded, greets th' approach of light; Full many a ftar, unseen by mortal eye, With twinkling luftre glimmers thro' the night. Some |