The Junior Stood
Stood waiting for his maiden fair;
He softly swore, and did berate
The Prof. who keeps his classes late;
The class rushed by, but patient there
The Junior stood.
He looks aloft with restless air;
She comes, the maid with golden hair,
At last. He needs no longer wait.
She meets another up the stair;
She gives her books into his care;
She never turns, but passes straight.
Then grinding hard his teeth with hate
And gazing through the vacant air,
The Junior stood!
___Perlee R. Bennett