Punt Counter Punt

Mid all these problems we’re confronting
I come to sing the praise of punting! –
Not that, beneath the flowing mays
One may forget these evil days,
Or drown with strident gramophoning
The echoes of Creation’s groaning –
‘The sluggard’s dream’ some would define thee
O noble Punt, how they malign thee!
‘Rather, I say, on Cher and Isis
Britons prepare for future crisis,
Our country’s foes shall find their measure
In heroes trained near Parsons’ Pleasure,
And future Waterloos be won
Where Islip’s modest waters run.

For think! how just a punt (and pole)
Can brace the body, nerve the soul,
When slim canoes flash briskly by
With trailing blade, derisive eye,
Or other punts, with cool effrontery
Pass, conscious of superior puntery!
How one accepts, with scarce a shiver,
Down arm and sleeve, the icy river,
Of all things false one is bereft,
Hair, teeth, on passing trees are left,
Man stands alone, and (unlike rowing)
He stands and sees the way he’s going.

But if the pole in mud be bedded
And pole and punt, which should be wedded
Threaten to part, his frenzied voice
Proclaims the Hour of Punter ’s Choice –
Then must he show both Force and Vision
Or take the Plunge of Indecision.

(1946)

Oxford satires

  • Oxford Revisited

    Oxford! What change indeed is here!
    Where are the sweets of yesteryear?

  • Shakespeare at Toggers

    Now all the youth of Oxford are on fire
    And dog-eared learning in the Radder lies.

  • Omar in Stat. Pup.

    Awake! For morning like a faithful Scout,
    Has touched the switch that put repose to rout,

  • Punt Counter Punt

    Mid all these problems we’re confronting
    I come to sing the praise of punting! –

  • Summer Song

    The Summer Term! What tales are told
    By greybeards of the days of old –

  • Tale of an ex-Static Water Tank

    Beside the Camera’s bulk rotund
    The impassioned prophet strode,

  • A Vision of Degree Day

    The drowsy air, the throngs that gaze,
    The ceremonial stir,
    Mixed with the drone of Latin phrase..