Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered weak and weary,
over a long forgotten volume of vet med.
While I pondered nearly napping,
there came a gentle rapping,
my computer entreating me to look
at a page of SDN....
Tis some pre-vet needing help
at my computer door,
only this and nothing more...
Ah distinctly I remember,
it was not yet december,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost exam of micro.
For the rare and radiant class whom the angels named micro-
Nameless here for evermore.
why can't I study patho
nor parasit or micro,
what it is that interferes with my studies of the dog.
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the WW Game and nothing more!'
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of WW
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this WW!'
Quoth the moderator, `Nevermore.'
