is, I give and I bequeath them, viz.:  Westminster grammar, old and poor, Another one, compiled by Moor; A bunch of pamphlets pro and con The doctrine of salva-ti-on; The college laws, I’m freed from minding, A Hebrew psalter, stripped from binding.  A Hebrew Bible, too, lies nigh it, Unsold—­because no one would buy it.

 “My manuscripts, in prose and verse,
  They take for better and for worse;
  Their minds enlighten with the best,
  And pipes and candles with the rest;
  Provided that from them they cull
  My college exercises dull,
  On threadbare theme, with mind unwilling,
  Strained out through fear of fine one shilling,
  To teachers paid t’ avert an evil,
  Like Indian worship to the Devil. 
  The above-named manuscripts, I say. 
  To club aforesaid I convey,
  Provided that said themes, so given,
  Full proofs that genius won’t be driven,
  To our physicians be presented,
  As the best opiates yet invented.

“Item.  The government of college, Those liberal helluos of knowledge, Who, e’en in these degenerate days, Deserve the world’s unceasing praise; Who, friends of science and of men, Stand forth Gomorrah’s righteous ten; On them I naught but thanks bestow, For, like my cash, my credit’s low; So I can give nor clothes nor wines, But bid them welcome to my fines.

“Item.  My study desk of pine, That work-bench, sacred to the nine, Which oft hath groaned beneath my metre, I give to pay my debts to PETER.

“Item.  Two penknives with white handles, A bunch of quills, and pound of candles, A lexicon compiled by COLE, A pewter spoon, and earthen bowl, A hammer, and two homespun towels, For which I yearn with tender bowels, Since I no longer can control them, I leave to those sly lads who stole them.

“Item.  A gown much greased in Commons, A hat between a man’s and woman’s, A tattered coat of college blue, A fustian waistcoat torn in two, With all my rust, through college carried, I give to classmate O——­,[67] who’s married.

“Item.  C------ P------s[68] has my knife,
During his natural college life,—­
That knife, which ugliness inherits,
And due to his superior merits;
And when from Harvard he shall steer,
I order him to leave it here,
That ’t may from class to class descend,
Till time and ugliness shall end.

“The said C------ P------s, humor’s son,
Who long shall stay when I am gone,
The Muses’ most successful suitor,
I constitute my executor;
And for his trouble to requite him,
Member of Laughing Club I write him.

 “Myself on life’s broad sea I throw,
  Sail with its joy, or stem its woe,
  No other friend to take my part,
  Than careless head and honest heart. 
  My purse is drained, my debts are paid,
  My glass is run, my will is made,
  To beauteous Cam.  I bid adieu,
  And with the world begin anew.”