Full of England’s sons

“But I said I’d fund a Bursary!
Isn’t that enough!
What’s this about being all full up?
When my offer’s such great stuff?”
“I understand ‘dilemma’ Sir!
You think the word is new!
What do you mean, there’s more than me
Funding bursaries too?”
“My son is one in a million
He comes of first-rate root
He’s very properly educated
And fine Head Boy to boot!”
“If you think I’ll parry with you
About all application risk
No, I’m not interested in your policy!
Just put him on the list!”
“Hello; hello? Is anyone there?
Damn it man! That’s not playing fair!
This wretched system’s full of rot
This bloody country’s going to pot”
“Hello Son, bad news I’m sorry to say
The Oxbridge lot have had their day
No chance of going up this year
It’s all a mess; so very unfair
Even the fact I was there
Hasn’t moved their heart
Nor the really super Bursary
I offered at the start
Despite your sound credentials:
Your school, your grades, your charm
They’re worried their new policy
Will suffer some great harm
No doubt they think they’re very smart
To offer up your place
To some struggling Comprehensive type
With left-ish looking face
Good God! This country’s teetering
On the cliffs of change
It’s a damn disgrace; this re-balancing race
And to think we’re losing out!
What’s re-balancing to do with me
The lock, stock, barrel of this damn county!
They’d rather ditch that Bursary
Than take the best; the young, green trees
Into quadrangles that are meant to be
Full of England’s Sons”