Astronomers, working like niggers,

Neck-deep in morasses of figures,

From Cricketing vainly would wean us

With diagrams, even of Venus.

We rather would watch a good bowler

Than Bears, be they little or Polar;

And bar, though of masculine genus,

Wise talk on the Transit of Venus.

When Ladies at Lords saunter gaily

With Parsons (not musing on Paley),

Old friend of my boyhood, between us,

Then, then is the Transit of Venus!