Classic Poem

(Which will not be sung on the 22d of February.)

We're sober men and true
In the class of '82;
We recite all our lessons
Without asking questions,
As scholarly men should do.

In Greek we're most intense;
In Literature immense;
But, hey — diddle — diddle,
Our Latin's a riddle.
And often devoid of sense.

When we go out of door,
Of text-books half a score
Tucked under our arm
To protect 'em from harm
Will go home with us as before.