They tell how fast the arrow sped,
When William shot the apple,
But who can calculate the speed
Of him who's late for chapel?
Trinity Tablet.
~A Senior Schedule.~
We're a-studying of Literature
As hard as e'er we can;
We dote on Revolutions
And the Brotherhood of Man.
We're returning to the People
With a truly Lyric Cry;
And for Democratic Spirit
We'd lay us down and die.
We're a-reading of Philosophy
To find out why we be,
And a-learning that External Worlds
Lie wholly in the Me.
We don't believe in Matter,
And of Mind we're not quite sure;
We're inclined to think Uncertainties
Most likely to endure.
We're a-studying Geology
Of Pre-historic Times,
Before the Tides of Primal Sea
Got written into rhymes;
When the "Old World spun forever,"
And the poets never knew it,—
And all the Rocks, and Stones, and Things,
Were nicely mixed up through it.
We're a-looking at Fine Pictures
Made by People what are dead;
And we criticize Cathedrals
With a Ruskin at our head.