To studies recondite she’s too much wed,
And from books she needs a change.”
“Not my books,” the patient cried;
“Take not the desk that my books contains!
For o’er the ‘Browning Club’ I preside,
And the mystic masterly fruit of his brains
Is my solace, glory, and pride!”
Her request being granted, asleep fell she;
The Lady Principal joyed at that;
But when the Doctor dropped in, said he,