Cambridge

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Two fitful lamps in the silent court Scarce vigour enough can musterTo throw on the nearest ivy-leaves A faint and sickly lustre.My voiceless books on their dusty shelves Hang drearily round and above me,For I'm a poor wretch with a Fellowship And never a soul to love me. --One or two friends, good fellows enough, Still linger about the old College;One or two bring me a noddle to stuff With scrapings of Classical knowledge;One or two dons I don't care for a straw In years and in learning above me; --Servants that live on one, cramming their maw, -- But never a soul to love me!Right it should be so; -- why should it not? Love for the lovable only; --Yet a tup put to graze by himself for the rot May be pardoned for saying he's lonely.

© Robertson James