. The minstrelsy of Isis; an anthology of poems relating to Oxford and all phases of Oxford life; . to knowThe cause of Snow, Haile, Thunder, Frost, and Raine,The Lightnings, Meteors and what here twere vaineFor one to speak of, sith I shall but show itTo those that better than myselfe doe know from the causes of things naturall I went to matters Metaphysicall, 166 Of which, when I a little iiewes could tell,I with the rest in Schooles to wrangling fell,And (as example taught me) to disgrace her,When I opposed the Truth, I could out-face her. G. Wither. From Abuses Stript and JVhipt, 1
. The minstrelsy of Isis; an anthology of poems relating to Oxford and all phases of Oxford life; . to knowThe cause of Snow, Haile, Thunder, Frost, and Raine,The Lightnings, Meteors and what here twere vaineFor one to speak of, sith I shall but show itTo those that better than myselfe doe know from the causes of things naturall I went to matters Metaphysicall, 166 Of which, when I a little iiewes could tell,I with the rest in Schooles to wrangling fell,And (as example taught me) to disgrace her,When I opposed the Truth, I could out-face her. G. Wither. From Abuses Stript and JVhipt, 1622 167 THE MODISH WAY (TO A FRIEND IN LONDON) WELL dost thou ask me in thy friendly laysHow in this factious place I spend my briefly thus :—As is the modish way,Seldom I read, and much more seldom I like not, that mechanick prove the whole is greater than a and Law alike displease;In short, I love my bottle and my tenor of a College life I keep,Eat thrice a day, pun, smoke, get drunk and sleep. Nicholas Amherst (St. Johns Coll., 1718). [68. THE LOUNGER I RISE about nine, get to breakfast by ten,Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen ;Read or play till eleven, or, cock my laced hat,Then step to my neighbours, till dinner, to over, to Toms or to Jamess I goThe news of the town so impatient to Law, Locke and Newton and all the queer race,That talk of their modes, their ellipses, and seat of the soul, and new systems on high,In holes, as abstruse as their mysteries, the cofFee-house then I to tennis away,And at five I post back to my college to pray ;I sup before eight, and secure from all march to the Mitre or Tuns ;Where in punch or good claret my sorrows I drown,And toss off a bowl To the best in the one in the morning I call whats to pay,Then home to my college I stagger I tope all the night as I trifle all day. From The Oxford Sausage. 16
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