THE MASQUE OF B-LL--L - Amy Levy Poems


Poems » amy levy » the masque of b ll l



First come I. My name is J-W-TT.
There's no knowledge but I know it.
I am Master of this College,
What I don't know isn't knowledge.


J. L. S. D.

STR-CH-N D-V-DS-N am I, the lean
Unbuttoned, cigaretted Dean,
Brother numismatists, you see a
Historian in a Dahabeeah.

T. K. C.

I am CH-YNE: I confess
That I love a deaconess;
I can wed without misgiving
Now I've got a college living.

R. L. N.

Roughly, so to say, you know,
I am N-TTL-SH-P or so;
You are gated after Hall,
That's all. I mean that's nearly all.

R. G. T.

Here am I, the often sat on
Dancing don; my name is T-TT-N;
Like old wine in a new bottle
Is my talk on Aristotle.

W. H. F.

O, I say, I once was F-RB-S,
Now the Master me absorbs,
Me and many other me's
In his great Thucydides.

E. A.

I am ABB-TT: where I go
My man Tom must go also,
He on foot, I in my chair;
But that's neither here nor there.

A. C. B.

I'm BR-DL-Y, and I bury deep
`A secret that no man can keep.'
If you won't let the Master know it,
Or F-RB-S, I'll tell you, -- I'm a poet.

F. DE P.

What an oddity am I,
Little cynic P-R-VI,
Virgil I can shrilly render
Cock-a-hoop upon the fender.


Not on the Foundation

A. L. S.

 I am little SM-TH, who glances
On disorganized finances;
Who'd have looked for so much vigour
In so very small a figure?

A. T.

What finance and trade and coin be
Learn of me, for I am Toynbee:
GR--N and I our faith have plighted
To a sepulchre re-whited.

A. J. G.

GR-H-ME am I, so calm, so bright,
The scholar's peer, the don's delight.
`I have developed no defect
Of either' but their grace elect.

C. A. J.

I am Truthful J-M-S, whose bent
Eyebrows look astonishment;
J-M-S and eyebrows you may sever;
J-M-S and anecdotage never.

P. E. M.

Upright and shrewd, more woo'd of fame
Than wooing, M-TH-S-N'S my name;
I'm not what you would call intense,
But I've uncommon common sense.

J. A. H.

I am H-M-LT-N; my mission
Is to be a politician;
Judicious love of Art refines
The paragon of Philistines.

A. J. F. A.

I'm AD-MS, once a Wesleyan,
By G-D'S just wrath a Balliol man;
I'd rather dig the ground in dolour
Than be a mathematical scholar.


J. W. M.

From D-wks and Ch-tty at my tail
You'll syllogize that I'm M-CK-L;
In all I do I score always,
In all I say -- à l'écossaise.



A. N. C.

I am C-MM-NG. I inveigle
Everyone to talk of Hegel;
Mr. Ruskin would have sobbed on
Seeing the motto of my Cobden.


F. C. M.

Old tips come out as good as new
From me, for I am M-NT-GUE;
With head aslant I softly cram
The world into an epigram.


H. C. C. M.

An anti-everything-you-list,
Insipid epigrammatist,
Of eccentricity I'm proud,
A human artichoke, M-CL--D.

C. A. S. R.

Can story-telling be a vice
When you've an uncle like SPR-NG R-CE?
My versatility is such
None likes me little, or knows me much.

H. C. B.

I am the apostle B--CH-NG,
Busby and Burne-Jones my teaching;
I write poems; but one saith
My poems are a form of death.

L. H.

I am H--L-Y, blond and merry,
Fond of jokes and laughter, very:
If I laughed at what was witty,
I should laugh less, which were pity.


J. M. M.

Red my head, and blue my tie,
Soft my speech, for I'm M-CK-Y;
Aphrodeety may be dead,
But we've N-CH-LS-N instead.

G. H. B.

Like the gurgling brook that patters by
Flows my speech, for I am B-TT-RSBY;
Never swan nor yet giraffe
Had so GRAND a throat by half.

S. L. L.

I am featly-tripping L-E,
Learned in modern history,
My gown, the wonder of beholders
Hangs like a foot-note from my shoulders.


H. E. B.

Waifs and strays I, B--LT-N, edit,
And my ballads do me credit,
I'm in everything that's going,
I know everyone worth knowing.

G. N. C.

I am a most superior person, Mary,
My name is G--RGE N-TH-N--L C-RZ-N, Mary,
I'll make a speech on any political question of the day, Mary,
Provided you'll not say me nay, Mary.

B. M.

Spoken jest of STR-CH-Y, shall it
Not arouse a smile in M-LL-T?
Thro' my eyelids softly peeping
Like as one that walketh sleeping.

L. S. B.

Brothers twain but single-hearted,
Not in rhyme shall we be parted,
SCL-T-R- B--TH and SCL-T-R- B--TH,
Leviathan and Behemoth.

C. E. D.

Positivists ever talk in s-
Uch an epic style as D-WK-NS;
Creeds are nought and M-N is all,
Spell Him with a capital.

L. F. S.

I am L-CY; when I play
Bliss and D-WK-NS flee away.
Art and orthodoxy wait
On my Archbiaconate.

R. W. S.

'Tis not by feeding tea and shrimps on
That you'd become as thin as S-MPS-N:
You might by trying to defer
So obstinate a questioner.

A. C. G. D.

I'm GR-NT D-FF, with much misgiving
Whether life be worth the living;
Yet there's a balm in Gilead, should a
Friend be brought to talk of Buddha.

C. J. J.

Out of the way, for I am J-SS-L,
You'll find you are the weaker vessel;
But as I occupy the ground
You have your choice, so which way round?

J. C. E. B.

I am BR-NS-N; Nature's laws
Govern all things; some first cause
May exist, but I don't know;
It's Nature makes my whiskers grow.

J. B. B. N.

Mark the subtle smile that trickles
Down the sphinx-like face of N-CH-LS;
My hair is black, my china blue,
My Botticellis fifty-two.

A. C.

I am AB-L C-SS-M Khan,
In my grave sweet way I scan
Western life. My thoughts would fill a
Book if written out. Bismillah.

G. G. R.

Faultless I from brim to sole,
Coat and gloves and buttonhole;
High-souled Brummel, touched, had wept on
Seeing me, for I am R-PT-N.

S. B.

No poor Britisher is nearly
Half so fine a man as BR-RL-Y;
But I cheerfully acknowledge
Harvard's whipped by B-LL--L College.