Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE COLLEGIAN AND THE PORTER, by HORACE SMITH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE COLLEGIAN AND THE PORTER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: At trin. Coll. Cam. -- which means, in proper spelling
Last Line: "I'll give you -- leave to go to bed!"
Alternate Author Name(s): Smith, Horatio
Subject(s): Cambridge University


AT Trin. Coll. Cam. -- which means, in proper spelling,
Trinity College, Cambridge, there resided
One Harry Dashington -- a youth excelling
In all the learning commonly provided
For those who choose that classic station
For finishing their education:
That is, he understood computing
The odds at any race or match;
Was a dead hand at pigeon-shooting;
Could kick up rows, knock down the watch --
Play truant and the rake at random --
Drink -- tie cravats -- and drive a tandem.

Remonstrance, fine, and rustication,
So far from working reformation,
Seemed but to make his lapses greater,
Till he was warned that next offence
Would have this certain consequence --
Expulsion from his Alma Mater.
One need not be a necromancer
To guess that, with so wild a wight,
The next offence occurred next night,
When our incurable came rolling
Home as the midnight chimes were tolling,
And rung the College bell. -- No answer.

The second peal was vain -- the third
Made the street echo its alarum;
When to his great delight he heard
The sordid Janitor, old Ben,
Rousing and growling in his den.
"Who's there? -- I s'pose young Harum Scarum."
"'Tis I, my worthy Ben, 'tis Harry."
"Aye, so I thought -- and there you'll tarry.
'Tis past the hour -- the gates are closed,
You know my orders; I shall lose
My place if I undo the door."
"And I (young Hopeful interposed)
"Shall be expelled if you refuse;
So prythee" -- Ben began to snore.

"I'm wet," cried Harry, "to the skin;
Hip! hallo! Ben! -- don't be a ninny;
Beneath the gate I've thrust a guinea,
So tumble out and let me in." --

"Humph!" growled the greedy old curmudgeon,
Half overjoyed and half in dudgeon,
"Now, you may pass, but make no fuss,
On tiptoe walk, and hold your prate."
"Look on the stones, old Cerberus,"
Cried Harry as he passed the gate,
"I've dropped a shilling -- take the light,
You'll find it just outside; -- good night."
Behold the porter in his shirt,
Cursing the rain which never stopped,
Groping and raking in the dirt,
And all without success; but that
Is hardly to be wondered at,
Because no shilling had been dropped;
So he gave o'er the search at last,
Regained the door and found it fast!

With sundry oaths, and growls, and groans,
He rang, once, twice, and thrice; and then,
Mingled with giggling, heard the tones
Of Harry, mimicking old Ben.

"Who's there? -- 'Tis really a disgrace
To ring so loud. -- I've locked the gate --
I know my duty -- 'tis too late,
You wouldn't have me lose my place?"
"Psha! Mr. Dashington: remember,
This is the middle of November,
I'm stripped, 'tis raining cats and dogs."
"Hush, hush!" quoth Hal, "I'm fast asleep;"
And then he snored as loud and deep
As a whole company of hogs:
"But, harkye, Ben, I'll grant admittance
At the same rate I paid myself."
"Nay, master, leave me half the pittance,"
Replied the avaricious elf.
"No: all or none -- a full acquittance:
The terms, I know, are somewhat high;
But you have fixed the price, not I --
I won't take less, I can't afford it."
So, finding all his haggling vain,
Ben, with an oath and groan of pain,
Drew out the guinea, and restored it.
"Surely you'll give me," growled the outwitted
Porter, when again admitted,
"Something, now you've done your joking,
For all this trouble, time, and soaking."
"Oh surely, surely," Harry said;
"Since, as you urge, I broke your rest,
And you're half drowned, and quite undress'd,
I'll give you -- leave to go to bed!"





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