Classic Poem

East view of the new Belfry, Ch. Ch., as seen from the Meadow.

If thou wouldst view the Belfry aright,
Go visit it at the mirk midnight —
For the least hint of open day
Scares the beholder quite away.
When wall and window are black as pitch,
And there's no deciding which is which;
When the dark Hall's uncertain roof
In horror seems to stand aloof;
When corner and corner, alternately,
Is wrought to an odious symmetry:
When distant Thames is heard to sigh
And shudder as he hurries by;
Then go, if it be worth the while,
Then view the Belfry's monstrous pile,
And, home returning, soothly swear,
" 'Tis more than Job himself could bear! "

On the feelings with which resident Ch. Ch. men regard the new Belfry.

Is it the glow of conscious pride —
Of pure ambition gratified —
That seeks to read in other eye
Something of its own ecstasy?
Or wrath, that worldlings should make fun
Of anything " the House " has done?
Or puzzlement, that seeks in vain
The rigid mystery to explain?
Or is it shame that, knowing not
How to defend or cloak the blot —
The foulest blot on fairest face
That ever marred a noble place —
Burns with the pangs it will not own,
Pangs felt by loyal sons alone?

Song and Chorus.

Five fathom square the Belfry frowns;
All its sides of timber made;
Painted all in grays and browns;
Nothing of it that will fade.
Christ Church may admire the change —
Oxford thinks it sad and strange.
Beauty's dead! Let's ring her knell.
Hark! now I hear them — ding-dong, bell.

On the moral of the new Belfry.

" Look on the Quadrangle of Christ, squarely, for is it not a Square?
And a Square recalleth a Cube; and a Cube recalleth the Belfry;
And the Belfry recalleth a Die, shaken by the hand of the gambler;
Yet, once thrown, it may not be recalled, being, so to speak, irrevocable.
There it shall endure for ages, treading hard on the heels of the Sublime —
For it is but a step, saith the wise man, from the Sublime unto the Ridiculous:
And the Simple dwelleth midway between, and shareth the qualities of either. "