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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355291" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hic Vir, Hic Est</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Often, when o'er tree and turret,<br>Eve a dying radiance flings,<br>By that ancient pile I linger<br>Known familiarly as 'King's.'<br>And the ghosts of days departed<br>Rise, and in my burning breast<br>All the undergraduate wakens,<br>And my spirit is at rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What, but a revolting fiction,<br>Seems the actual result<br>Of the Census's enquiries<br>Made upon the 15th ult.?<br>Still my soul is in its boyhood;<br>Nor of year or changes recks.<br>Though my scalp is almost hairless,<br>And my figure grows convex.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Backward moves the kindly dial;<br>And I'm numbered once again<br>With those noblest of their species<br>Called emphatically 'Men':<br>Loaf, as I have loafed aforetime,<br>Through the streets, with tranquil mind,<br>And a long-backed fancy-mongrel<br>Trailing casually behind:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Past the Senate-house I saunter,<br>Whistling with an easy grace;<br>Past the cabbage-stalks that carpet<br>Still the beefy market-place;<br>Poising evermore the eye-glass<br>In the light sarcastic eye,<br>Lest, by chance, some breezy nursemaid<br>Pass, without a tribute, by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once, an unassuming Freshman,<br>Through these wilds I wandered on,<br>Seeing in each house a College,<br>Under every cap a Don:<br>Each perambulating infant<br>Had a magic in its squall,<br>For my eager eye detected<br>Senior Wranglers in them all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By degrees my education<br>Grew, and I became as others;<br>Learned to court delirium tremens<br>By the aid of Bacon Brothers;<br>Bought me tiny boots of Mortlock,<br>And colossal prints of Roe;<br>And ignored the proposition<br>That both time and money go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Learned to work the wary dogcart<br>Artfully through King's Parade;<br>Dress, and steer a boat, and sport with<br>Amaryllis in the shade:<br>Struck, at Brown's, the dashing hazard;<br>Or (more curious sport than that)<br>Dropped, at Callaby's, the terrier<br>Down upon the prisoned rat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have stood serene on Fenner's<br>Ground, indifferent to blisters,<br>While the Buttress of the period<br>Bowled me his peculiar twisters:<br>Sung 'We won't go home till morning';<br>Striven to part my backhair straight;<br>Drunk (not lavishly) of Miller's<br>Old dry wines at 78:-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When within my veins the blood ran,<br>And the curls were on my brow,<br>I did, oh ye undergraduates,<br>Much as ye are doing now.<br>Wherefore bless ye, O beloved ones:-<br>Now unto mine inn must I,<br>Your 'poor moralist,' {51a} betake me,<br>In my 'solitary fly.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Stuart+Calverley">Charles Stuart Calverley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355291" data-title="Hic Vir, Hic Est de Charles Stuart Calverley" data-description="Often, when o'er tree and turret,
Eve a dying radiance flings,
By that ancient pile I linger
Known familiarly as 'King's.'
And the ghosts of days departed
Rise, and in my burning breast
All the undergraduate wakens,
And my spirit is at rest.

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