My eyes must keep, for every peep
Might make me rusticated.
With a countenance weary and worn,
With his nose, alas! awfully red,
The Undergrad blew out his candle's flame,
And settled himself in his bed.
"Read, read, read,"
In his troubled sleep he said.
Examiners think on his piteous face,
If he's plucked, you know 'tis your disgrace,