In dreams he seemed to see the Halls,
And fatal precincts of the Schools:
To watch the crowd of ghastly fools,
Who tried in vain to pass their Smalls.
He only said, "The schools are dreary:
This Euclid racks my brain.
Of Ethics I am very weary;
I shall be ploughed again."
He sat and darkened all the air,
With smoke up-wreathing from his weed: