Quantities of ’em

Oh! Do you know the Muses nine
The daughters  of Jove  and  Mnemosyne ? 
And have you heard how they play the deuce
With  'longs' and 'shorts' at Olympus?
They waltz around on the boarded floor 
To pay their homage to Terpsichore; 
They act a tragedy—this I ween
Not under the guidance of Melpomene; 
While  Comedy—H'm—if it  prove  a failure 
Is-—pardon the rhyme—disowned  by Thalia; 
The love that never was taught by Plato
They learn to express from the fair Erato 
While writers of vers de société chirp
At the foot of the footstool of Miss Euterpe, 
Though singers and actors can hardly hope 
For a line on the tablets of Calliope,
And barely two of the crowd aspire
To follow the calm-eyed  Polyhymnia,
Or turn to the Heavens and bother their crania 
With profitless watching the stars, like Urania.

Which things—that the last may be hurried more quickly o— 
Ver—move the wrath of the scornful and sick Clio,
Who wails, through our pen, from Parnassian glades:—
'This is classical knowledge in Simla, Oh Hades!'

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