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

Rh 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,