Morbus Mathematicus.
[24]
All my curves are cardioidal;
I confuse my x and ys,
Which they say is suicidal;
And my tutor vainly sighs.
Wavelet, tell her how I love her,
As she mounts her learned throne;
And that love I hope may cover
All the failings which I own.
Wavelet, cry to her for pity;