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Category: Funny Whimsical Poems
       Classic humorous and funny poems using whimsy. Humourosly quaint and fanciful, especially in an amusing way.

  THE FUTURE OF THE CLASSICS  

No longer, O scholars, shall Plautus
                                    Be taught us.
        No more shall professors be partial
                                    To Martial.
                                    No ninny
                Will stop playing "shinney"
                                    For Pliny.
        Not even the veriest Mexican Greaser
                        Will stop to read Caesar.
        No true son of Erin will leave his potato
        To list to the love-lore of Ovid or Plato.
                                    Old Homer,
                            That hapless old roamer,
Will ne'er find a rest 'neath collegiate dome or
                Anywhere else. As to Seneca,
                                    Any cur
                Safely may snub him, or urge ill
                Effects from the reading of Virgil.
                        Cornelius Nepos
                        Wont keep us
Much longer from pleasure's light errands--
                        Nor Terence.
The irreverent now may all scoff in ease
At the shade of poor old Aristophanes.
And moderns it now doth behoove in all
Ways to despise poor old Juvenal;
                And to chivvy
                                Livy.
        The class-room hereafter will miss a row
        Of eager young students of Cicero.
The 'longshoreman--yes, and the dock-rat, he's
                Down upon Socrates.
                        And what'll
                Induce us to read Aristotle?
                        We shall fail in
                        Our duty to Galen.
                No tutor henceforward shall rack us
                To construe old Horatius Flaccus.
                We have but a wretched opinion
                        Of Mr. Justinian.
        In our classical pabulum mix we've no wee sop
                                    Of Aesop.
        Our balance of intellect asks for no ballast
                                    From Sallust.
With feminine scorn no fair Vassar-bred lass at us
Shall smile if we own that we cannot read Tacitus.
No admirer shall ever now weathe with begonias
                        The bust of Suetonius.
                And so, if you follow me,
                We'll have to cut Ptolemy.
Besides, it would just be considered facetious
                        To look at Lucretius.
                        And you can
Not go in Society if 'you read Lucan,
        And we cannot have any fun
                Out of Xenophon.

                                        Unknown.


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