The Scholars by

BALD heads forgetful of their sins,  
Old, learned, respectable bald heads  
Edit and annotate the lines  
That young men, tossing on their beds,  
Rhymed out in love’s despair         
To flatter beauty’s ignorant ear.  
They’ll cough in the ink to the world’s end;  
Wear out the carpet with their shoes  
Earning respect; have no strange friend;  
If they have sinned nobody knows. 
Lord, what would they say  
Should their Catullus walk that way?  

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