The verb “to work,” and with his satchel whining,
As on he creeps, like snail, at slug-gard’s pace—
A sun not always “with a shining face:”
Until he learns ’tis easier to be good,
His master being in th’ imperative mood;
And if the youth is backward in the school,
He has his knuckles reddened with the rule.
The rule of three he does not deem much fun,
While he is flinching at the rule of one,
Who makes him only ten times more perplexed;