Solivitur Acris Hiemps

My Juggins, see: the pasture green,
 Obeying Nature's kindly law,
  Renews its mantle; there has been
 A thaw.
  The frost-bound earth is free at last,
 That lay 'neath Winter's sullen yoke
 'Till people felt it getting past
 A joke.
  Now forth again the Freshers fare,
 And get them tasty summer suits
  Wherein they flaunt afield and scare
 The brutes.
  Again the stream suspects the keel;
 Again the shrieking captain drops
  Upon his crew; again the meal
 Of chops
  Divides the too-laborious day;
 Again the Student sighs o'er Mods,
  And prompts his enemies to lay
 Long odds.
  Again the shopman spreads his wiles;
 Again the organ-pipes, unbound,
  Distract the populace for miles
 Around.
  Then, Juggins, ere December's touch
 Once more the wealth of Spring reclaim,
  Since each successive year is much
 The same;
  Since too the monarch on his throne
 In purple lapped and frankincense,
  Who from his infancy has blown
 Expense,
  No less than he who barely gets
 The boon of out-of-door relief,
  Must see desuetude,—come let's
 Be brief.
  At those resolves last New Year's Day
 The easy gods indulgent wink.
  Then downward, ho!—the shortest way
 Is drink.