Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/449

Rh Yet cursing both—for both have made him sore:

Unread (unless since books beguile disease,

The P—x becomes his passage to Degrees);

Fooled, pillaged, dunned, he wastes his terms away,

And unexpelled, perhaps, retires M.A.;

Master of Arts! as hells and clubs proclaim,

Where scarce a blacklesr bears a brighter name!

Launched into life, extinct his early fire,

He apes the selfish prudence of his Sire;

Marries for money, chooses friends for rank,

Buys land, and shrewdly trusts not to the Bank;

Sits in the Senate; gets a son and heir;

Sends him to Harrow—for himself was there.

Mute, though he votes, unless when called to cheer,

His son's so sharp—he'll see the dog a Peer!

Manhood declines—Age palsies every limb;

He quits the scene—or else the scene quits him;

Scrapes wealth, o'er each departing penny grieves,

And Avarice seizes all Ambition leaves;