Chorus

_For the tar may roam, but the tar comes home to wherever his home may be, With a Yo, heave ho, and a _o e to_, and a Master of Arts Degree_!

They have gone to imbibe the classical lore of Learning's ancient seat (They are sadly at sea in the classics as yet, though _classis_ is Latin for fleet), It is there you will find those naval men, by the Isis and eke the Cher., For Scholarship is the only ship that is fit for a bold Jack Tar.

He has bartered his rum for a coach and a crib, at the First Lord's stern decree, And he learns the use of the rocket and squib (which are useful as lights at sea): And they train him in part of the nautical art, as much as a landsman can, For they teach him to paddle the gay canoe, and to row the rash randan.

Should he e'er be inclined his Tutors and Deans to look with contempt upon (Observing the maxims of Raleigh and Drake, who never thought much of a Don), Let him think there are things in the nautical line that even a Don can do, For only too well are examiners versed in the way to plough the Blue!

Though a Captain _per se_ is an excellent thing for repelling his country's foes, He is better by far, as an engine of war, with a knowledge of Logic and Prose: And a bold A.B. is the nation's pride, in his rude uncultured way, But prouder still will the nation be when he's also a bold B.A.!