Solivitur 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.