I shall be spun. There is a voice within
Which tells me plainly I am all undone;
For though I toil not, neither do I spin,
I shall be spun.
April approaches. I have not begun
Schwegler or Mackintosh, nor will begin
Those lucid works till April 21.
So my degree I do not hope to win,
For not by ways like mine degrees are won;
And though, to please my uncle, I go in,
I shall be spun.
Here we must quote, from _The Scarlet Gown_, one of his most tender
pieces of affectionate praise bestowed on his favourite city:--