r. f. murray-his poems with a memoir-第4节
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stronger than water。 There was a certain kind of humour in drink；
he said； but he thought it was chiefly obvious to the sober
spectator。 As the sober spectator； he sang of violent delights
which have violent ends。 He may best be left to illustrate student
life for himself。 The ‘waster' of whom he chants is the slang name
borne by the local fast man。
THE WASTER SINGING AT MIDNIGHT。
AFTER LONGFELLOW。
Loud he sang the song Ta Phershon
For his personal diversion；
Sang the chorus U…pi…dee；
Sang about the Barley Bree。
In that hour when all is quiet
Sang he songs of noise and riot；
In a voice so loud and queer
That I wakened up to hear。
Songs that distantly resembled
Those one hears from men assembled
In the old Cross Keys Hotel；
Only sung not half so well。
For the time of this ecstatic
Amateur was most erratic；
And he only hit the key
Once in every melody。
If 〃he wot prigs wot isn't his'n
Ven he's cotched is sent to prison；〃
He who murders sleep might well
Adorn a solitary cell。
But； if no obliging peeler
Will arrest this midnight squealer；
My own peculiar arm of might
Must undertake the job to…night。
The following fragment is but doubtfully autobiographical。 ‘The
swift four…wheeler' seldom devastates the streets where； of old； the
Archbishop's jackmen sliced Presbyterian professors with the
claymore； as James Melville tells us：…
TO NUMBER 27x。
Beloved Peeler！ friend and guide
And guard of many a midnight reeler；
None worthier； though the world is wide；
Beloved Peeler。
Thou from before the swift four…wheeler
Didst pluck me； and didst thrust aside
A strongly built provision…dealer
Who menaced me with blows； and cried
‘Come on！ come on！' O Paian； Healer；
Then but for thee I must have died；
Beloved Peeler！
The following presentiment； though he was no ‘waster；' may very well
have been his own。 He was only half Scotch； and not at all
metaphysical：…
THE WASTER'S PRESENTIMENT
I shall be spun。 There is a voice within
Which tells me plainly I am all undone；
For though I toil not； neither do I spin；
I shall be spun。
April approaches。 I have not begun
Schwegler or Mackintosh； nor will begin
Those lucid works till April 21。
So my degree I do not hope to win；
For not by ways like mine degrees are won；
And though； to please my uncle； I go in；
I shall be spun。
Here we must quote； from The Scarlet Gown； one of his most tender
pieces of affectionate praise bestowed on his favourite city：…
A DECEMBER DAY
Blue； blue is the sea to…day；
Warmly the light
Sleeps on St。 Andrews Bay …
Blue； fringed with white。
That's no December sky！
Surely ‘tis June
Holds now her state on high；
Queen of the noon。
Only the tree…tops bare
Crowning the hill；
Clear…cut in perfect air；
Warn us that still
Winter； the aged chief；
Mighty in power；
Exiles the tender leaf；
Exiles the flower。
Is there a heart to…day；
A heart that grieves
For flowers that fade away；
For fallen leaves？
Oh； not in leaves or flowers
Endures the charm
That clothes those naked towers
With love…light warm。
O dear St。 Andrews Bay；
Winter or Spring
Gives not nor takes away
Memories that cling
All round thy girdling reefs；
That walk thy shore；
Memories of joys and griefs
Ours evermore。
‘I have NOT worked for my classes this session；' he writes （1884）；
‘and shall not take any places。' The five or six most distinguished
pupils used； at least in my time； to receive prize…books decorated
with the University's arms。 These prize…men； no doubt； held the
‘places' alluded to by Murray。 If HE was idle； ‘I speak of him but
brotherly；' having never held any ‘place' but that of second to Mr。
Wallace； now Professor of Moral Philosophy at Oxford； in the Greek
Class （Mr。 Sellar's）。 Why was one so idle； in Latin （Mr。 Shairp）；
in Morals （Mr。 Ferrier）； in Logic （Mr。 Veitch）？ but Logic was
unintelligible。
‘I must confess；' remarks Murray； in a similar spirit of pensive
regret； ‘that I have not had any ambition to distinguish myself
either in Knight's （Moral Philosophy） or in Butler's。' ｛1｝
Murray then speaks with some acrimony about earnest students； whose
motive； he thinks； is a small ambition。 But surely a man may be
fond of metaphysics for the sweet sake of Queen Entelechy； and；
moreover； these students looked forward to days in which real work
would bear fruit。
‘You must grind up the opinions of Plato； Aristotle； and a lot of
other men； concerning things about which they knew nothing； and we
know nothing； taking these opinions at second or third hand； and
never looking into the works of these men； for to a man who wants to
take a place； there is no time for anything of that sort。'
Why not？ The philosophers ought to be read in their own language；
as they are now read。 The remarks on the most fairy of
philosophersPlato； on the greatest of all minds； that of
Aristotle； are boyish。 Again ‘I speak but brotherly；' remembering
an old St。 Leonard's essay in which Virgil was called ‘the furtive
Mantuan；' and another； devoted to ridicule of Euripides。 But Plato
and Aristotle we never blasphemed。
Murray adds that he thinks； next year； of taking the highest Greek
Class； and English Literature。 In the latter； under Mr。 Baynes； he
took the first place； which he mentions casually to Mrs。 Murray
about a year after date：…
‘A sweet life and an idle
He lives from year to year；
Unknowing bit or bridle；
There are no Proctors here。'
In Greek； despite his enthusiastic admiration of the professor； Mr。
Campbell； he did not much enjoy himself：…
‘Thrice happy are those
Who ne'er heard of Greek Prose …
Or Greek Poetry either； as far as that goes；
For Liddell and Scott
Shall cumber them not；
Nor Sargent nor Sidgwick shall break their repose。
But I； late at night；
By the very bad light
Of very bad gas； must painfully write
Some stuff that a Greek
With his delicate cheek
Would smile at as ‘barbarous'faith； he well might。
* * * * *
So away with Greek Prose；
The source of my woes！
（This metre's too tough； I must draw to a close。）
May Sargent be drowned
In the ocean profound；
And Sidgwick be food for the carrion crows！'
Greek prose is a stubborn thing； and the biographer remembers being
told that his was ‘the best； with the worst mistakes'； also
frequently by Mr。 Sellar； that it was ‘bald。' But Greek prose is
splendid practice； and no less good practice is Greek and Latin
verse。 These exercises； so much sneered at； are the Dwellers on the
Threshold of the life of letters。 They are haunting forms of fear；
but they have to be wrestled with； like the Angel （to change the
figure）； till they bless you； and make words become； in your hands；
like the clay of the modeller。 Could we write Greek like Mr。 Jebb；
we would never write anything else。
Murray had naturally； it seems； certainly not by dint of wrestling
with Greek prose； the mastery of language。 His light verse is
wonderfully handled； quaint； fluent； right。 Modest as he was； he
was ambitious； as we said； but not ambitious of any gain； merely
eager； in his own way； to excel。 His ideal is plainly stated in the
following verses：…
＇Greek text＇
Ever to be the best。 To lead
In whatsoever things are true；
Not stand among the halting crew；
The faint of heart； the feeble…kneed；
Who tarry for a certain sign
To make them follow with the rest …
Oh； let not their reproach be thine！
But ever be the best。
For want of this aspiring soul；
Great deeds on earth remain undone；
But； sharpened by the sight of one；
Many shall press toward the goal。
Thou running foremost of the throng；
The fire of striving in thy breast；
Shalt win； although the race be long；
And ever be the best。
And wilt thou question of the prize？
‘Tis not of silver or of gold；
Nor in applauses manifold；
But hidden in the heart it lies：
To know that but for thee not one
Had run the race or sought the quest；
To know that thou hast ever done
And ever been the best。
Murray was never a great athlete： his ambition did not lead him to
desire a place in the Scottish Fifteen at Football。 Probably he was
more likely to be found matched against ‘The Man from Inversnaid。'
IMITATED FROM WORDSWORTH
He brought a team from Inversnaid
To play our Third Fifteen；
A man whom none of us had played
And very few had seen。
He weighed not less than eighteen stone；
And to a practised eye
He seemed as little fit to run
As he was fit to fly。
He looked so clumsy and so slow；
And made so little fuss；
But he got in behindand oh；
The difference to us！
He was never a golfer； one of his best
