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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, September 1926

An ex-Editor's Memories of the Future

page 9

An ex-Editor's Memories of the Future

Hell—a device of theology
To frighten the fools and the dolts.
When a man's at Victoria College, he
Imbibes Free Discussional knowledge, he
Knows that this Hell's poor mythology
Against which an agnostic revolts.

Heaven—the ancient Elysium,
Where for poets there are pence without kicks;
Where the finding of rhymes won't dizzy 'em
With Charon right there to tin Lizzie 'em
By the Ford or the Ferry o'er the Styx.
(That's not heaven surely, that Hades
Where the leafy Vallambrosan shade is).
But heaven—you just ask the ladies:
Will their Rudolf be there or Tom Mix?
There, men just recline at their leisure
With girls waiting round them all day
To dance and to sing for their pleasure,
Whilst they gargle the ages away.
Their favourite gargle is nectar
(Diana tried some but it wrecked her,
And she did what they didn't expect her—
Oh that Brook had been there to correct her!)

I learnt all of this from John Rankine,
Professor and scholar and classic;
You can see how profoundly we drank in
The Falernian spirit and Massic.

Lastly, there's Earth where Goliath,
Philistine, by Dave was laid low.
(None knows what he can till he trieth,
Each's oppo will come ere he dieth;
Be like David and don't let it go.)
Have the Philistines now any giants?
But we're getting away from Earth:
Earth, the haunt of the sly ants,
Of beetles, and lawyers and clients,
Of Melody, money and Mirth.

For money I care not a title—
Whatever a title may be—
And Melody's worth very little,
But Mirth is the music for me.

Yet, of Mirth
On Earth
There's a dearth.
Ah! Mirth!

—Julius Hogben.