PARAPHRASE FROM HORACE.

I. IX.

With the Hope that Harvard will endow a Professorship of Hygiene.

LYDIA, tell me, I conjure thee,

By the gods that rule above,

Why, though Sybaris allure thee,

Wilt thou ruin him with love?

Why the sunny Jarvis hates he,

He inured to dust and heat?

Why no more with equals mates he,

At the Bicycle Club "meet"?

Why no longer in his "single"

Skims he o'er the yellow wave,

He who once was wont to mingle

In Spring Races, brown and brave?

He who once was wont to tussle

In the "winter meeting's" ring,

And who raised a fearful muscle,

Throwing hammers in the spring,

Why, O, why, like young "Achille,"

By a petticoat concealed,

Lurks our athlete, - or why will he

Play lawn tennis on Holmes Field?