Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
read more

Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
That lifts a pinch of mortal dust;
A few swift years, and who can show
Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe?

From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one,
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and read more

From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one,
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not,
But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.

Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.

Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.

If you tell folks you're a college student, folks are so impressed. You can be a student in anything and read more

If you tell folks you're a college student, folks are so impressed. You can be a student in anything and not have to know anything. Just say toxicology or marine biokinesis, and the person you're talking to will change the subject to himself. If this doesn't work, mention the neural synapses of embryonic pigeons.

Rocking on a lazy billow
With roaming eyes,
Cushioned on a dreamy pillow,
Thou read more

Rocking on a lazy billow
With roaming eyes,
Cushioned on a dreamy pillow,
Thou art now wise.
Wake the power within thee slumbering,
Trim the plot that's in thy keeping,
Thou wilt bless the task when reaping
Sweet labour's prize.

The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are read more

The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are hot, the night is without
sleep, the day a fear of interruption,--pallor, squalor, hunger,
and egotism. If you come near them and see what conceits they
entertain--they are abstractionists, and spend their days and
nights in dreaming some dream; in expecting the homage of society
to some precious scheme built on a truth, but destitute of
proportion in its presentment, of justness in its application,
and of all energy of will in the schemer to embody and vitalize
it.

Where should the scholar live? In solitude, or in society? in
the green stillness of the country, where he read more

Where should the scholar live? In solitude, or in society? in
the green stillness of the country, where he can hear the heart
of Nature beat, or in the dark, gray town where he can hear and
feel the throbbing heart of man?

Today's students can put dope in their veins or hope in their brains. If they can conceive it and believe read more

Today's students can put dope in their veins or hope in their brains. If they can conceive it and believe it, they can achieve it. They must know it is not their aptitude but their attitude that will determine their altitude.