Classic Poem

And now (most worthy Sir) I've time to shew
Some Parcell of that Duty that I ow,
Which like late fruit, grows Vigorous by delay,
Gaining a force more lasting by its stay.
Had I presented you with ought, whiles here,
'T had been to sacrifice, the Priest not neer;
Forme rather than devotion, and a free
Expression of a Custome, not of me:
I was not then my self; Then not to err
Had been a trespass 'gainst the Miniver ;
For, when our Pumps are on, we do dispence
With every slip, nay, every Crime, but Sense:
And we're encourag'd in't, the Statutes do't,
Which bind some Men to shew they cann't dispute.
Suffer me, Sir, to tell you that we do
Owe these few daies solemnity to you;
For had you not among our Gowns been seen
Enlivening all, Oxford had only been
A Peopled Village, and our Act at best
A Learned Wake , or Glorious shepheards feast:
Where (in my Judgement) the best thing to see
Had been Jerusalem or Nineveh ,
Where, for true Exercise, none could surpass
The Puppets, and Great Britaines Looking Glass .
Nor are those Names unusuall; July here
Doth put forth all th' Inventions of the year:
Rare Works, and rarer Beasts do meet; we see
In the same street Africk and Germany .
Trumpets gainst Trumpets blow, the Faction's much,
These cry the Monster-Masters, Those the Dutch :
All Arts find welcome, all men come to do
Their Tricks and slights; Juglers, and Curats too,
Curats that threaten Markets with their Looks,
Arm'd with two weapons, Knives and Table-books;
Men that' do itch (when they have eate) to note
The chief distinction 'twixt the Sheep , and Goat ;
That do no questions relish but what be
Bord'ring upon the Absolute Decree ,
And then haste home, lest they should miss the lot
Of venting Reprobation , whiles 'tis hot.
But, above all Good sports, give me the sight
Of the Lay Exercise on Monday night,
Where a Reserved stomach doth profess
A zeal-prepared Hunger, of no less
Than ten days laying up, where we may see
How they repaire, how ev'ry man comes Three;
Where, to the envy of our Townsmen, some
Among the rest do by Prescription come,
Men that themselves do victuall twice a year,
At Christmas with their Landlords, and once here.
None praise the Act more, and say less; they do
Make all Wine good by drinking, all Beer too;
This was their Christian Freedom here: nay we,
Our selves too then, durst plead a Liberty:
We reform'd Nature, and awak'd the Night,
Making it spring as Glorious as the Light;
That, like the Day did dawn, and break forth here,
Though in a Lower, yet as bright a Sphere;
Sleep was a thing unheard of, unless 'twere
At Sermon after Dinner, all wink'd there;
No Brother then known by the rowling White,
Ev'n they sate there as Children of the Night;
None come to see and to be seen; none heares,
My Lords fee-buck closeth bothe Eyes and Eares;
No Health did single, but our Chancellors pass,
Viscounts and Earles throng'd seven in a Glass.
Manners and Language ne'r more free; some meant
Scarce one thing and did yet all Idioms vent;
Spoke Minshew in a Breath; the Inceptors Wine
Made Latine Native: Gray Coats then spoke fine,
And thought that wiser Statute had done wrong
T'allot us four years yet to learn the Tongue.
But Oxford , though throng'd with such People, was
A Court where e'r you only pleas'd to pass;
We reckon'd this your Gift, and that this way
Part of the Progress , not your Journey lay.
I could relate you more, But that I fear
You'l find the Dregs o'th' time surviving here;
And that gets some Excuse: Think then you see
Some Reliques of the Act move yet in me.