Meditatur Studentissimus Quidam, in Mediis Laboribus a Virgine Carissima Interpellatus. Little coquette, for new conquest rapacious, Eyes that imprison half-slumbering smile, Naughtily shy, and demurely audacious, Artfully artless, young mistress of guile, Why do your lips look so temptingly lonely, If you can only entice to forget ? Why should I laugh with you, long for you, love you, Little coquette ? I’ll be a Faustus with spell necromantic, You’ll be the Phyllis whom Horace loved so, Now, little sweetheart, all truly romantic, Teach me how Phyllis woo’d long long ago ; Foul fall our footnotes and marginal lections, Bentley’s mutetur, Salmasius’ stet— One line of love-lilt to ten of corrections, Little coquette ! Now the old songs with their loves and their yearning Gasp in the grip of the glosses and rotes ; Oh for more life and a little less learning, More of the heart-blood and less of the notes ; Shall not the stir of their passionate music Kindle the fires that are warm in us yet ? Life must be ours—though it scorch in the grasping, Little coquette ! Now, little sweetheart, I know how Catullus Burst into song with a Lesbia like you ; Now I can mourn with the gentle Tibullus Watch with his Delia, deeming her true :— Da mihi basia mille et centum, Meae deliciæ—Anglicè pet— O meum cor, mi ocelle, lepores, Little coquette ! George H. Daniels.