Queen Cram went straying br Where Tait was swaying, br In just hands weighing, br With care immense, br Dry proofs made pleasant br By Routh or Besant br For one who hasn’t br Got too much sense. br Nor marked how, quicker br Than mounts the liquor br In brains made thicker br By College beer, br The murderous maiden, br Mistake, walks laden br With tips forgotten and slips so queer. br br How, like a spider, br She still spreads wider, br O’er bookwork, rider, br And problem too, br Her flimsy curtain br Of terms uncertain, br Till all seems dirt in br The marker’s view. br For if Cram were not, br Which markers spare not, br Wise men would care not br To pluck too soon, br Seeing all life’s season br Of budding reason br Finds good stiff work for a wooden spoon. br br As Tait sat joking, br And marked while smoking, br Still slyly poking br Where jests might hit, br She came, soft-gliding, br Her false face hiding, br Rich food providing br For Tait’s sharp wit. br Through symbols tangled, br The Wranglers wrangled br Like sweet bells jangled br And out of tune. br For though their music br Would soon make you sick br The tides they measure and guide the moon. br br Cram found no cover br Wherein to hover, br For still above her br Tait held his pen, br Which, onward creeping, br Might find her sleeping, br But left her weeping br O’er ruined men. br For, like a blister, br Mistake, Cram’s sister, br Would wring and twist her br In awkward ways, br Till all the knowledge br Acquired at College br Had passed from thought(49) in the last six days.