And I'm to be top o' the list, mother, top o' the list, they say,
I lie awake all night, mother, but in the morn I sleep,
And dream of Virgil, Euclid, Dons, all jumbled in a heap,
And the letters in the Euclid dance about like lambs at play:
O, I'm to be top o' the list, mother, top o' the list, they say.
As I came by King's Chapel, whom do you think I saw,
But Andrew Jones de Mandeville Fitzherbert Aspenshaw!
He thought of that hard problem I gave him yesterday;
For I'm to be top o' the list, mother, top o' the list, they say.
He thought me such a bore, mother, for he couldn't get it right,