Two youths there were in days of yore
Called Jones and Robinson.
Jones had abilities galore,
While Robinson had none.

They met with corresponding fates:
And Jones, that genius proud,
Obtained in time a First in Greats:
While Robinson was ploughed.

Jones hoped that mental gifts like his
Might gain a Fellowship:
But ah! full many a slip there is
Between the cup and lip:

“You have a brain,” the College said,
“Which unassisted soars:
’Tis not for Colleges to aid
Abilities like yours!

Go—wealth awaits your gathering hand,
And empires crave your rule!
But Fellowships like ours are planned
To help the helpless fool.”

He tried the Press: he tried the Bar:
But still the Bar and Press
Said, “Not for him our openings are
Whose gifts ensure success:

Such posts are meant (’tis justice plain)
For those unhappy chaps
(Like Robinson) whom lack of brain
Unfairly handicaps!”

And now—yet check the rising tear:
It seems that long ago
Those Founders whom we all revere
Meant it to happen so—

Some lack of necessary food,
All in a garret lone,
Has ended Jones. I thought it would.
But Robinson’s a Don.