With their discount and their practice, and their very vulgar fractions,
Smashing up the one ideal into many paltry factions.
Square root makes the head to ache, the decimals the tear to start,
For they're ever circulating round the fibres of my heart—
Learning grammar is like putting water in a leaky pot,
And its memory is only like the days remembered not;
Verbs in "M I" are aggravating, Euclid makes the foot to stamp,
Only lucid when enlightened by a moderator lamp,
The old spider and his cobwebs! would that I could sweep them out
From the dust and must of ages with a triumph and a shout;