Collegia – Ode 68: Solace in Dreamland


(Apologies to Lewis Carroll.)

How doth the little Crabtree lad
Improve his shining face,
By thinking of his home, how sad,
While down his tears do race.

How sorrowfully he bears his shame
When on banana slips,
And heaves up sobs that shake his frame
And agitate his lips.

Prinny said to a coon
Who slipped home too soon,
“Let me state it quite plainly, I mean to fine!”
“Come, I’ll take no denial
And I hate your old dial,
And beshrew me, I fear that my monies are few!”
Said the coon to the Prin,
“Why would you begin
At your decent old age a fellow to rob?”
“It’s a fine, you young ninny”
Said cunning old Prinny,
“Your conscience to soothe, you’re fined twenty-five bob!”

“You are old, my dear Prinny,” said Jockie, “by heck!
“And your nose has become very creased;
“And yet here you talk through the back of your neck,
“It’s not decent, I think, saying the least.”

“In my youth” the old Prinny replied to Jock Ross,
“I feared it my back bone would strain,
“But I’m invertebrate now so I care not a toss,
“I do it again and again.”

“You are old” said the Scot, “as I mentioned before,
“And no one could say you were fat,
“Yet you take thinning tablets complete by the score;
“Pray what is the reason of that?”

“In my youth,” said the Prin, as he leered like an elf,
“I was stout and contracted the habit
“Of taking such pills – why, man, try one yourself –
“A chance in a million, just grab it.”

“You are old,” said the Scot, “and your jaws are too weak
“For anything tougher than porridge;
“Yet you finish the mutton, the pork and the steak –
“Pray, where do you find your great courage?”

“In my youth,” said the Prinny, “I knocked out my teeth
“When engaged in a fistic encounter,
“And my dentist made false ones, each with a sheath
“Of iron, and then a gold mounter.”

“You are old,” said Jock Ross, “And should be sedate
“And steady in views, and yet truthful;
“But your hat has a rakish set on your pink pate,
“What makes you so awfully youthful?”

“I have answered three questions and that is sufficient,”
Said the Prin, “I’m ashamed to own yer;
“Be off with you quick or I’ll think you deficient,
“And send you back to Caledonia.”


Speak roughly to the little boy
Who bangs the gates and jerks us,
He only does it to annoy
Because he knows it irks us.

CHORUS. Bang! Bang! Bang!

We’ll speak severely to the boy,
But none was ever denser,
He’ll bang them rather than annoy
His idle boss, the Censor.

CHORUS. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Twinkle, twinkle, little girl,
Oft we wonder ow you whirl
‘Twixt the tables long, you fly
Like a whirlwind passing by.

“Who will take the next week’s lesson?” said the tutor to the class.
But downcast were the faces of this silent student mass.
See how quickly on their dials grow despairing looks and wan,
They are waiting for his signal, “Will you, So-and-so, take it on?”
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you take it on?
Won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you take it on?

“You can really have no notion how delightful it cane be,
When you stand to give the lesson to the young humanity!”
And the student dared not say “Oh, no!” for all his hope had gone,
So he thanked old Jockie kindly; said he’s take the lesson on.
Would do, could do, would do, could do, would do lesson set;
Could do, would do, could do, would do, could do lesson set.

“It matters not what class you take!” the tutor then replied,
“Of course it must be, don’t you know, upon the science side;
“The further on the lesson the further you have gone –
“So have your choice my little man, but take the lesson on.
I know you want to, wish to, want to, wish to take it on!
Want to, wish to, want to, wish to, want to take it on!

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‘Tis the voice of the Prinny; we hear him declare
Quite often his views after evening prayer,
As a hen on the gravel so he on his cheek
Scratches and scrapes, it’s the same with his beak.
When Jockie’s not here he’s as gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of that shark;
But when the Scot enters with beaming face round
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.

I passed by his doorway and marked with one eye
How Jock and the Prinny were having a cry;
The Prinny took hanky and wiped his short beard,
And Jock’s face with crocodile tears was seared.
When the cry was all over and four eyes were dried,
The Prin took a whisky and threw it inside,
And feeling much better replied with a grin,
“Why, Jockie my mon, you are growing a fourth chin!”

Odious stew, slimy and brown,
Safe in the dish but anon to force down!
Who such nightmares would pursue?
Stew of the noontide, odious stew!
Stew that the cook dyed, nigger-brown stew!
O-odious stew-ew!
O-odious stew-ew!
Stew-ew of the noo-oo-oontide,
Odious nigger-brown stew!

Odious stew! We think of fish,
Mutton and cutlets, any other dish!
Who would not run a mile from the view,
Wondrously awful, of odious stew?
Wondrously horrible, odious stew?
O-odious stew-ew!
O-odious stew-ew!
Stew-ew of the noo-oo-oontide,
Odious nigger-brown stew!

The cook of hog met a hot dog
All on a tragic day;
A Junior wog, he ate that dog,
And faded all away!

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