By a Pitying Sophomore.

FAR in the future, when unfeeling Jones

No more shall rudely summon us from bed,

But morning Chapel come through telephones Instead;

When in the long-desired Sever Hall

We cease to cramp our much-enduring knees

As now, but loaf on rich divans, and loll At ease;

When the Gymnasium, when the swim - but stop -

When nothing incompleted shall remain,

Then may the playful Freshman cease to drop His cane.