5 - April 1905

[bold] DU BIST WIE EINE SOPHOMORE [bold] DEDICATED TO THE GIRLS OF '06

Thou seemest like a sophomore, So rosy sweet and bright,a Crammed full of dusty ancient lore Jammed in by day and night.

Thy freshmen days have passed away The days when those wert green And fresh, as e'er was restless fay Beneath the moon, I ween.

The lectures then, thou ne'er didst slide, No stone was left unturned, It cannot, cannot be denied Thy soul for knowledge burned.

Twas then thou didst from Horace sip Bandusian waters clear,

Ah then from Cicero wrote didst dip "Marcello" quaint and queer.

With "maid of Treppi" those didst warm O'er mountains grand and old, Till Philip found for her a home, And warmed that heart once cold.

Cinq Histoires", dost not know it well? [Five stories from the French} Such treat was it that oft the bell Scarce stirred thee from the bench.

What else - ah me! I've most forgot Fair Rosalind and Lear, The jester, Jaques, these I wot Will evermore be dear.

These were the joys that stirred by [?}

That cost thee weary hours And at exams they were the test Of thy developed powers.

But freshman days have flown away Thou art a sophomore, I see it in the look so gay Thou didst not wear before

A sophomore - what means the term! Why "soft no more" I ween Yea "soft no more" but very firm And bold, and brave, and keen.

What read you now, may I but ask, If 'tis a question fair? From what is given thee the last That makes thee tear thy hair?

Catullus - ah! I know the clown, He's but an "also ran" To Horrace should belong the crown, A [underlined] poet and a [underlined] man.

Some Cicero - ah! I'm glad of that, Orations win the day Old Cis can bring them to the mat And make the robbers pay.

And French - Le tour de la France By Julien and his frise, And Deutsch - those Cyrico make us [dance] The ballads raise our hair.

Psychology and logic, these with mediaeval lore Our learning appetites appease, We cry "no more, no more."

Well here's to you sweet sophomore With hair done up on high, May your sweetness grow from more to more, And sorrows ne'er come nigh.

And here's to you, again [Loay], Fill up the glasses round, May your praises from exam day For evermore resound. [drawn line] [drawn line]

It is noticed that MacAndrew smiles a "bland" smile whenever the "bell" rings.

There was a young student named Benson, whose heart was of such a dimension, It embraced all the girls Which caused such great whirls. That it snapped because of the tension.