When the fish is a fish
And the man is a man
The studious will say
The fish is a frying pan

Quoth the great Freud
“Sometimes...a cigar”
But the studious, annoyed,
Claim none ever are

When they’re taught that the fish
Is as good as a wish
They can make up their minds
To ignore every scar



Twas Shakespeare that set
By his own special brand
The pattern of work
For the studious hand

And as Carroll and Wilde,
Whitman and Marlowe,
Being similarly styled,
Would Assuredly know

That the birds and bees
Are all rats and fleas
When left to designs
That the studious sew