POEMS BY EMINENT HANDS.

GANDER Green Adolphus Gosling

By all sorts of oaths he swore

That a chosen crowd of Freshmen

Should the Black Crook see once more.

So he issued forth his mandate,

And they came from all around,

Very little Freshmen sprouting,

Button-mushrooms, from the ground.

From east, from west, from north and south,

From Little's, Beck Hall, too,

From Matthews, Hollis, Stoughton, Weld,

Came forth the half-fledged crew;

And some wore Chantillys of price,

To hide the furtive cane,

And some magenta handkerchiefs,

To make their standing plain.

And, as they toddled through the yard,

Their songs were heard from far:

Some sang the deeds of famed Malone

Who lived behind a bar;

While others called on Mary Ann, -

A friend perhaps of Ma.

And, kicking up an uproar thus,

They boarded many a car.

AT THE PLAY.(In the manner of the Blind Maeonides)

As when a breeze from the west stirs the ears of the sleek-footed cornfield,

Or as the swift-trotting flies buzz and hum round a keg of molasses,

Thus, in their seats at the Globe, supported by Atlas, John Stetson,

Swayed, rocked, and murmured aloud these blameless, cloud-gathering Freshmen.

But when there came to their view a well-girt-up, deep-bosomed maiden,

Lost they their ???, and helplessly curled on their benches.

Followed her many a one, all peerless euplokomos numphes,

Amazons, too, were they called, though not in a sense truly classic;

Felt they no whit of the shame which made much-enduring Ulysses,

'Cause he'd forgotten his clothes, hide himself in an owl-headed thicket.

Rose then the chief of his gang, the scurrile, buffoon-like Thersites,

And, pointing to one of the maids, said, "My stars! twig her eye! what a beauty!"

As when a high-minded wolf, who knows of no lord but his belly,

Flies at the loud-roaring lambs, and scatters destruction among them,

So did the speech of the youth scare the deep-bosomed, well-girt-up maidens.

But came a voice from the stage of a fat, many-dashing old actor,

And from his tongue as he spoke flowed there language far sweeter than honey:

"Who, damizize, has thus spoke winged words to a real, perfect lady?

Fear not: you'll all know his name, in the shrill, clear-voiced tones of the Herald."

Fell well-greaved fear on the lads, and they silently watched the performance.

THE RAID.(In the manner of Sir W-r Sc-tt.)

ON Boston's spires, towers, and trees

Flitted the silent midnight breeze.

The moon looked down, and shed her beam

On both the bridges and the stream,

From which they're called the Cam.

From Boylston Street, far on to Court,

Nay, from the distant Cambridgeport,

From Medford, Malden, Chestnut Hill,

No sound there came, all was so still:

The city was as dead,

As though in suburb, square, and street

Her giant heart had ceased to beat,

Her life completely fled.

But hark! at once a shout there rings,

And terror, as a mantle, flings

O'er dames and men as well.

It comes from Ober's, and afar

From hostel that is kept by Par-

Ker, and from Atwood's famous bar,

Still more from Young's Hotel.

Nor hence alone, but from the slums,

And, gathering strength, still on it comes,

A genuine Freshman yell.

The p'licemen fled - 't was not their beat -

Before the tread of countless feet

That on and on, across the ridge

Of Beacon, and Charles River bridge,

And ever on unchallenged past,

Until they reached the Port at last,

To plan a daring feat.

Two gleaming poles the party spies, -

A tempting sight to Freshmen eyes,

A splendid chance to "rag";

For, shining in the pure moonlight,

They see the stripes of red and white

That grace our country's flag.

These callow Freshmen, on whose chin

The scattered hairs do but begin

To make a furtive mark,

What care they for a barber's sign?

The flaunting ensign mocks the line,

And beards them as they walk.

The column moved brave Tompkins' ire, -

His Freshman soul was all on fire

To fling some insult back.

But as he climbs the treach'rous round,

It falls, and prostrate on the ground

Lays Tompkins, on his back.

Yet as he lay, he cheer'd them on

Until both boys and poles were gone,

Until a peeler came and caught

Our hero where his hair was short:

"Je suis pince, I'm caught! oh, dom!"

Were the last words of gallant Tom.

MORAL.(In the manner of Mr. Gilbert.)

THE Praeses saw the youth next day,

And chaffed him in his pleasant way.

"And did it want a barber's pole?

It was a simple little soul.

Now every impecunious cur

Must see the college carpenter;

For every Freshman, though, who's hard

I'll buy a little lumber-yard.

My own convenience count as nil, -

It is my duty, and I will."

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