My dear Cambridge...

My dear Cambridge, You have pulled it off, As all men know. This ode

Will make Oxford pretty sick; But the spoils are to the victor. If Oxford had rowed better And won,

They should have had a nice new ode, Like good boys; But they have been and gone and lost, And are, therefore,

Not fit subjects For immortal verse. Pah! I pass by Oxford!

As for you, dear Cambridge, Here's to you: In spite of your long and honourable connection With the manufacture

Of sossiges, There appears to be something in you, Which is more than can be said For some of the sossiges.

Cambridge, my own, You have won the bowt rice! ‘ Ave a drink! What is the good of winning the bowt rice,

If you do n't‘ ave a drink? I do n't know, And I'm sure you do n't. Also, what is the good

Of winning the bowt rice At all? I give it up. Yes, I do really;

Please do let me give it up. You have won; You can afford to be generous; Suffer me to indulge my little whim:

There is no good In winning the bowt rice, Cambridge No good at all. On the other hand,

When I come to think of it I am not quite sure That to have rowed In the Cambridge boat

Which won the bowt rice, Is materially to have damaged One's prospects or career: At the very least, it makes one safe

For a tutor's job At L per annum; And what self-respecting person from Cambridge Could wish for more?

I have heard of a man Who rowed In a winning Cambridge boat And is now driving

A hansom cab. And I have heard of another man Who omitted to row In a winning Cambridge boat

And is now driving a four-wheeler. You see the difference, of course! After all, To row

In a winning Cambridge boat Does give one A sort of start in life, And do n't you forget it.

Always remember, my dear Cambridge, who you are. You licked Oxford by five lengths In . This is probably

All you will get For your father's money. Be thankful.