SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMPS.

     My Juggins, see: the pasture green,
        Obeying Nature's kindly law,
     Renews its mantle; there has been
            A thaw.

     The frost-bound earth is free at last,
        That lay 'neath Winter's sullen yoke
    'Till people felt it getting past
            A joke.

     Now forth again the Freshers fare,
        And get them tasty summer suits
     Wherein they flaunt afield and scare
            The brutes.

     Again the stream suspects the keel;
        Again the shrieking captain drops
     Upon his crew; again the meal
            Of chops

     Divides the too-laborious day;
        Again the Student sighs o'er Mods,
     And prompts his enemies to lay
            Long odds.

     Again the shopman spreads his wiles;
        Again the organ-pipes, unbound,
     Distract the populace for miles
            Around.

     Then, Juggins, ere December's touch
        Once more the wealth of Spring reclaim,
     Since each successive year is much
            The same;

     Since too the monarch on his throne
        In purple lapped and frankincense,
     Who from his infancy has blown
            Expense,

     No less than he who barely gets
        The boon of out-of-door relief,
     Must see desuetude,—come let's
            Be brief.

     At those resolves last New Year's Day
        The easy gods indulgent wink.
     Then downward, ho!—the shortest way
            Is drink.