There treasures bound for Longepierre Keep brilliant their morocco blue, There Hookes' Amanda is not rare, Nor early tracts upon Peru! Racine is common as Rotrou, No Shakespeare Quarto search defies, And Caxtons grow as blossoms grew, Within that Book-man's Paradise! There's Eve,—not our first mother fair,— But Clovis Eve, a binder true; Thither does Bauzonnet repair, Derome, Le Gascon, Padeloup! But never come the cropping crew That dock a volume's honest size, Nor they that "letter" backs askew, Within that Book-man's Paradise! ENVOY. Friend, do not Heber and De Thou, And Scott, and Southey, kind and wise, La chasse au bouquin still pursue Within that Book-man's Paradise? 

ENVOY

 BALLADE OF WORLDLY WEALTH.   (OLD FRENCH.)   Money taketh town and wall, Fort and ramp without a blow; Money moves the merchants all, While the tides shall ebb and flow; Money maketh Evil show Like the Good, and Truth like lies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise. Money maketh festival, Wine she buys, and beds can strow; Round the necks of captains tall, Money wins them chains to throw, Marches soldiers to and fro, Gaineth ladies with sweet eyes: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise. Money wins the priest his stall; Money mitres buys, I trow, Red hats for the Cardinal, Abbeys for the novice low; Money maketh sin as snow, Place of penitence supplies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise. 

(OLD FRENCH.)

 BALLADE OF THE MAY TERM.   (Being a Petition, in the form of a Ballade, praying the University Commissioners to spare the Summer Term.)   When Lent and Responsions are ended, When May with fritillaries waits, When the flower of the chestnut is splendid, When drags are at all of the gates (Those drags the philosopher "slates" With a scorn that is truly sublime),[3] Life wins from the grasp of the Fates Sweet hours and the fleetest of time! When wickets are bowl'd and defended, When Isis is glad with "the Eights," When music and sunset are blended, When youth and the summer are mates, When Freshmen are heedless of "Greats," And when note-books are cover'd with rhyme, Ah, these are the hours that one rates Sweet hours and the fleetest of time! When the brow of the Dean is unbended At luncheons and mild tête-à-têtes, When the Tutor's in love, nor offended By blunders in tenses or dates; When bouquets are purchased of Bates, When the bells in their melody chime, When unheeded the Lecturer prates— Sweet hours and the fleetest of time! ENVOY. Reformers of Schools and of States, Is mirth so tremendous a crime? Ah! spare what grim pedantry hates— 

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