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I.
Heigh for ould Ireland! oh would you require a land
Where men by nature are all quite the thing,
Where pure inspiration has taught the whole nation
To fight, love and reason, talk politics, sing;
’Tis Pat’s mathematical,
chemical, tactical,
Knowing and practical, fanciful, gay,
Fun and philosophy, supping and sophistry,
There’s nothing in life that is out of
his way.
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| CHELTENHAM AND LONDON—1835. | 405 |
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II.
He makes light of optics, and sees through dioptrics,
He’s a dab at
projectiles—ne’er misses his man;
He’s complete in attraction, and quick at re-action,
By the doctrine of chances he squares every
plan;
In hydraulics so frisky, the whole Bay of Biscay,
If it flowed but with whiskey, he’d stow
it away.
Pun and philosophy, supping and sophistry,
There’s nothing in life that is out of
his way.
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III.
So to him cross over savant and philosopher,
Thinking, God help them! to bother us all;
But they’ll find that for knowledge, ’tis at our
own College,
Themselves must inquire for—beds, dinner
or ball;
There are lectures to tire, and good lodgings to hire,
To all who require, and have money to pay;
While fun and philosophy, supping and
sophistry,
Ladies and lecturing fill up the day.
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IV.
Here’s our déjeuner, put down your shilling,
pray,
See all the curious bastes, after their feed;
Lovely lips, Moore has
said, must evermore be fed,
So this is but suiting the word to the deed;
Perhaps you’ll be thinking that eating and drinking,
While wisdom sits blinking, is rather too gay;
But fun and philosophy, supping and sophistry,
Are all very sensible things in their way.
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V.
So at the Rotundo, we all sorts of fun
do,
Hard hearts and pig-iron we melt in one flame;
For if love blows the bellows, our tough College Fellows
Will thaw into rapture at each lovely dame.
There too, sans apology, tea, tarts, tautology,
Are given with zoology to grave and gay;
Thus fun and philosophy, supping and sophistry,
Send all to England home happy and gay.
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