When earth's last thesis is
From the theses that went before,
When idea from fact has
And bare-boned factlets shall bore,
When all joy shall have fled from
And scholarship reign supreme;
When truth shall "baaa" on the hill crests And no one shall dare to dream;
When all the good poems have been
With comment annoted in
And art shall bow down in
To scholarship's zinc-plated bull,
When there shall be nothing to
But the notes of annoted notes,
And Baalam's ass shall
The price of imported oats;
Then no one shall tell him the
For each shall know the one
That lies in the special
From which he is making his tract.
So the ass shall sigh
While each in his separate
Shall grind for the love of
And only the devil shall look.
Against the "germanic" system of graduate study and insane specialization in the Inanities.
