_For the tar may roam, but the tar comes home
to wherever his home may be,
With a Yo, heave ho, and a _o e to_, [1] and a
Master of Arts Degree_!
They have gone to imbibe the classical lore
of Learning's ancient seat
(They are sadly at sea in the classics as
yet, though _classis_ is Latin for fleet),
It is there you will find those naval men,
by the Isis and eke the Cher.,
For Scholarship is the only ship that is fit
for a bold Jack Tar.
He has bartered his rum for a coach and a
crib, at the First Lord's stern decree,
And he learns the use of the rocket and
squib (which are useful as lights at sea):
And they train him in part of the nautical
art, as much as a landsman can,
For they teach him to paddle the gay canoe,
and to row the rash randan.
Should he e'er be inclined his Tutors and
Deans to look with contempt upon
(Observing the maxims of Raleigh and
Drake, who never thought much of a Don),
Let him think there are things in the nautical
line that even a Don can do,
For only too well are examiners versed in
the way to plough the Blue!
Though a Captain _per se_ is an excellent
thing for repelling his country's foes,
He is better by far, as an engine of war, with
a knowledge of Logic and Prose:
And a bold A.B. is the nation's pride, in
his rude uncultured way,
But prouder still will the nation be when
he's also a bold B.A.!