The Poetry Corner

Behold! I Am Not One That Goes To Lectures.'

By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch

By W. W. Behold! I am not one that goes to Lectures or the pow-wow of Professors. The elementary laws never apologise: neither do I apologise. I find letters from the Dean dropt on my table--and every one is signed by the Dean's name-- And I leave them where they are; for I know that as long as I stay up Others will punctually come for ever and ever. I am one who goes to the river, I sit in the boat and think of 'life' and of 'time.' How life is much, but time is more; and the beginning is everything, But the end is something. I loll in the Parks, I go to the wicket, I swipe. I see twenty-two young men from Foster's watching me, and the trousers of the twenty-two young men, I see the Balliol men en masse watching me.--The Hottentot that loves his mother, the untutored Bedowee, the Cave-man that wears only his certificate of baptism, and the shaggy Sioux that hangs his testamur with his scalps. I see the Don who ploughed me in Rudiments watching me: and the wife of the Don who ploughed me in Rudiments watching me. I see the rapport of the wicket-keeper and umpire.I cannot see that I am out. Oh! you Umpires! I am not one who greatly cares for experience, soap, bull-dogs, cautions, majorities, or a graduated Income-Tax, The certainty of space, punctuation, sexes, institutions, copiousness, degrees, committees, delicatesse, or the fetters of rhyme-- For none of these do I care: but least for the fetters of rhyme. Myself only I sing.Me Imperturbe!Me Prononce! Me progressive and the depth of me progressive, And the bathos, Anglice bathos Of me chanting to the Public the song of Simple Enumeration.