Page:The college beautiful, and other poems.djvu/33

You 're not the child to draw it mild.
The very Sphinx your pen inspired ;
The father of an hundred woes,
You are not one to be admired.

Mr. Edward Olney, Sir,
I know you proud to evolve your surds ;
Your pride is yet no mate for mine,
Too proud to count myself three-thirds.
Nor would I break for your sweet sake
A heart that bounds to truer glee ;
A single line of Thomas Hood
Is worth a dozen formulae.

Mr. Edward Olney, Sir,
Some meeker pupil you must find,
For could I mete the Milky Way,
I would not stoop to such a mind.
You sought to prove how I aould cube,
And my disdain is my reply;
Your stovepipe hat upon the nail
Is not more stiff to you than I.

Mr. Edward Olney, Sir,
You bring strange sights before my eye :
Not thrice your birthday cakes have baked,
Since I beheld young Phoebe cry.
Oh, your curved lines ! your minus signs !
A great professor you may be,