Here you will find the Long Poem The Heathen Pass-ee of poet Arthur Clement Hilton
Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for plots that are dark And not always in vain, The heathen Pass-ee is peculiar, And the same I would rise to explain. I would also premise That the term of Pass-ee Most fitly applies, As you probably see, To one whose vocation is passing The `ordinary B.A. degree?. Tom crib was his name, And I shall not deny In regard to the same What that name might imply, But his face it was trustful and childlike, And he had the most innocent eye. Upon April the First, The Little-Go fell, And that was the worst Of the gentleman?s sell, For he fooled the examining Body In a way I?m reluctant to tell. The candidate came And Tom Crib soon appeared; It was Euclid,, The same Was `the subject he feared?, But he smiled as he sat by the table With a smile that was wary and weird. Yet he did what he could, And the papers he showed Were remarkably good, And his countenance glowed With pride when I met him soon after As he walked down the Trumpington Road. We did not find him out, Which I bitterly grieve, For I?ve not the least doubt That he?d placed up his sleeve Mr. Toodhunter?s excellent Euclid, The same with intent to deceive But I shall not forget How the next day at two As stiff paper was sett By Examiner U??.. On Euripides? tragedy, Bacchae. A subject Tom `partially knew?. But the knowledge displayed By that heathen Pass-ee. And the answers he made Were quite frightful to see, For he rapidly floored the whole paper By about twenty minutes to three. Then I looked up at U?.. And he gazed upon me. I oberserved `This won?t do.? He replies, `Goodness me! We are fooled by this artful young person?, And he sent for that heathen Pass-ee. The scene that ensued Was disgraceful to view, For the floor it was strewed With a tolerable few Of the `tips? that Tom Crib had been hiding For the `subject he partially knew? On the cuff of his shirt He had managed to get What we hoped had been dirt, But which proved, I regret, To be notes on the rise of the Drama, A question invariably set. In his various coats We proceeded to seek, Where we found sundry notes And-with sorrow I speak? One of Bohn?s publications, so useful To the student of Latin or Greek. In the crown of his cap Were the Furies and Fates, And a delicate map Of the Dorian States And we found in his palms which were hollow, What are frequent in palms,-that is dates. Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for plots that are dark And not always in vain, The heathen Pass-ee is peculiar, Which the same I am free to maintain.