Page 199 - YB1904

FuH of trouble might be moved: Place so loved By the Seniors! How their hearts Thrill with rapture that imparts Tunes of tapping and of rapping To the heels, heels, heels, heels, heels, heels, heels To the dancing and the prancing of the heels. Hear the patter of the heels, Slipper heels. What a chill disquietude upon the hearer steals, As they clatter, clatter, clatter Up the bare and gloomy hall, With a mystic, ghostly tapping Striking terror to us all, As serenely we lie napping In some room on Senior Hall. On the door there comes a beating, SHence-then a swift retreating Of the heels, heels, heels, heels, heels, heels, heels Of the pounding and resounding of the heels. Hear the creeping of the heels, Rubber heels. What a world of mefody(?) their presence there conceals! For the stamping, stamping, stamping Of those heels upon the walk Kept a constant, wicked rhythm With the never ending talk, Oh from out the Lab'ratory We have passed forever more And our shades have gone forever 195