Ode on a College Feast Day
I.
Hark! heard ye not yon footsteps dread,
That shook the hall with thund’ring tread?
With eager haste
The Fellows pass’d,
Each, intent on direful work,
High lifts his mighty blade, and points his deadly fork.
II.
But, hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth,
With steps, alas! too slow,
The College Gypts, of high illustrious worth,
With all the dishes, in long order go.
In the midst a form divine,
Appears the fam’d sir-loin;
And soon, with plums and glory crown’d
Almighty pudding sheds its sweets around.
Heard ye the din of dinner bray?
Knife to fork, and fork to knife,
Unnumber’d heroes, in the glorious strife,
Through fish, flesh, pies, and puddings, cut their destin’d way.
III.
See beneath the mighty blade,
Gor’d with many a ghastly wound,
Low the famed sir-loin is laid,
And sinks in many a gulf profound.
Arise, arise, ye sons of glory,
Pies and puddings stand before ye;
See the ghost of hungry bellies,
Points at yonder stand of jellies;
While such dainties are beside ye,
Snatch the goods the gods provide ye;
Mighty rulers of this state,
Snatch before it is too late;
For, swift as thought, the puddings, jellies, pies,
Contract their giant bulks, and shrink to pigmy size.
IV.
From the table now retreating,
All around the fire they meet,
And, with wine, the sons of eating,
Crown at length the mighty treat:
Triumphant plenty’s rosy traces
Sparkle in their jolly faces;
And mirth and cheerfulness are seen
In each countenance serene.
Fill high the sparkling glass,
And drink the accustomed toast;
Drink deep, ye mighty host,
And let the bottle pass.
Begin, begin the jovial strain;
Fill, fill the mystic bowl;
And drink, and drink, and drink again;
For drinking fires the soul.
But soon, too soon, with one accord they reel;
Each on his seat begins to nod;
All conquering Bacchus’ pow’r they feel,
And pour libations to the jolly god.
At length, with dinner, and with wine oppress’d,
Down in their chairs they sink, and give themselves to rest.