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Thursday, July 01, 2004
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THE MILLER OF PH.D.'s
There dwelt a miller, hale and bold, Beside the river Dee; He worked and sang from morn till night - No lark more blithe than he; And this the burden of his song Forever used to be: "I envy nobody - no, not I - And nobody envies me!" "Thou'rt wrong, my friend," said good King Hal, "As wrong as wrong can be; For could my heart be light as thine, I'd gladly change with thee. And tell me now, what makes thee sing, With voice so loud and free, While I am sad, though I am king, Beside the river Dee?" The miller smiled and doffed his cap, "I earn my bread," quoth he; "I mill M.A.‘s; I mill B.A.‘s; I mill fine Ph.D.'s. I owe no penny I can not pay, I thank the river Dee, That turns the mill that grinds the sheets That feed my babes and me." "Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the while, "Farewell, and happy be; But say no more, if thou'dst be true, That no one envies thee; Thy printing press is worth my crown, Thy mill my kingdom's fee; Such men as thou are England's boast, O miller of Ph.D.'s!" |