Proud Destiny

"Young man, a noble part you play
    To mould the mind of youth
To guide it on the starry way
    Of Wisdom and of Truth . . ."
S spoke that old, fat-headed fool,
    The Chairman of our School.

I wish he had my class to teach
    Just for a single day;
I don't think he would want to preach,
    But rather want to pray.
And count the avocations curst
    A teacher's is the worst.

I put my dreary books away,
    My head is like to split;
Tomorrow is another day,
    I must prepare for it:
A pile of essays to correct,
    Till bedtime, I expect.

My boys are little beasts, I know;
    They hate me more or less;
I wield the cane with vigour, so
    They've reason I confess.
Their grubby minds I grimly cram
    To pass a fool exam.

Oh! Could I quit this life tonight
    And live a lusty spell;
To be a man to wench and fight
    And raise a ruddy hell!
Alas! I haven't even spunk
    To go and get me drunk.

"Young man," said he. "your part is proud
    To shape the dreams of Youth."
. . . Oh! How I wish one of my crowd
    Had proved his saying sooth,
And with a sling-shot pinged his ear -
    I would have laughed, I fear.