Wellesley College - Legenda Yearbook (Wellesley, MA)

Page 29 text:

NINETEEN THREE 25 MATH WHAT makes the Freshman ' s heart to quake? what makes her feel so green? It isn ' t Freshman Bible, nor yet is it Hygiene; But it ' s everlasting treading in the everlasting path Wherein so many slip and fall ; the name of it is Math. O the math, O the math, O the foolish, mulish math. With its stupid lines and angles and its intersecting planes, It has spoiled my sweet good-nature, it has worn me to a lath. Has caused me many bitter tears, and used up all m l)rains. What makes the Freshman work so hard when Mids are on the way. And poor, despairing students are turning night to day? It isn ' t studying English, nor cramming Hebrew kings — It ' s puzzling o ' er equations, determinants and things. O the math, O the math, O the silly, pilly math. With its old, converging series, and derivatives elusive; It plunges me in blank despair, it rouses me to wrath — That it will be the death of me I hold as quite conclusive. In Hygiene I can see some sense, and Greek is not so dreadful, And of Bible and of English I am sure I ' ve got my head full. But the Freshman Mathematics, when all is said and done, It ' s a nightmare and a fever and a headache rolled in one. the math, O the math, O the puddling, muddling math. With its tangents and its secants, and its logs and sines and sich. 1 sadly fear again next year I must tread the self-same path, Again must dig at this old Triy — I ' d rather di r a ditch. Fis for Foster, Dramatic and small ; A very cute infant, She will grow to be tall. Free-thinkini, Foster ! Gis for Elsa, Who once said I ween Without my dear Annis I wouldn ' t be .seen ! Gregarious Greene! H H is for Haines, For shortness called I ' olly : One sight of her visage Dispels melancholv. Hilarious Haines ! is for Hall, Who once said, ' ■ You can Enjoy a good concert If you have a nice man ! Homogeneous Hall !

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24 T H E L K G E N D A The time of Reckoning must come, And end her bkiffing days, She can ' t go on forever so, And always get such praise. One ray of priceless hope 1 see. Before these eyes of mine, Examinations are at liand, ( )n papei ' I iii shine. FLUNKING IS— WHAT? FLUNKING is what? Exams redundant, Blueness abundant — Hard is mv lot I Anxious my brain, yet a blank all the same, Cram uninspired with the scholarly flame. What is yon lake to me? What is the flower? work with a tutor — a dollar per hour. Come then, O Cleverness, come to this cram. Commencement is near — I j nist pass that exam ! 1 ' ve got the permission — I ' 11 be happy enough When this three-hour condition 1 s passed — is off — Is off! Bis for Brown, Who won ' t need to die. For she has her own heaven In her own special Sky ! Blissful Brown ! Cis for Coale, With her family tree; She claims men for kindred. Where ' er they may be. Capacious Coale ! Dis for Dobbin, Our chemical friend; To go up in smoke Will, I fear, be her end. Demure Dobbin ! E is for Emmons, Athletically bred; If she wins much more honor. She ' ll iiave a swelled head. Excellinof Emmons!

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26 THE J. KG EN DA RUBAIYAT OF ENGLISH 6 WAKE, for tlie theme you should have wrote last ni ;lil Lies all Unfinished on your desk, in sight; Rouses a sickening fear within your Breast and strikes Your trembling heartstrings with a shaft of Fright. Last night, alas! is gone with wasted hours! Why did I not then concentrate my Powers ! Oh ! grant that I may get it done ere Nine, And take it where the English Cabinet lowers. Come, dip your pen and haste the Ink to fling, And all your energies upon the paper bring ; The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter, and tlie Bird is on the Wing. Whether half Through or only just l)egun. Whether your pen oi- swift or slowly run, The Wine of Time keeps Oozing drop by drop ; The leaves of life keep falling one by one. Each morn a nice, hot Breakfast brings, you say ; Yes, but my theme won ' t let me get away ; I hear the cheerful clattering of forks. But I must go an-hungered half the day. .Some that their themes be read in Class, and some Sigh for the flattering Scarlet ink to come ; I care not whether mine be good or bad, My only longing is to get it Done. Haste, my Beloved, fill the pages here. And cease your vain Regret and futile tear. Tomorrow ! Why, tomorrow you will be Once more free from this weekly English fear. But when the Angel of the lirilliant ink Shall meet you in the room where all hearts sink, And, offering her View, invite you to Defend your own, My, how you ' 11 shrink !