And not too long may we cavort:

The dorm's a fine and private place,

But none henceforth shall there embrace,

Since at our back we always fear

The curfew hour drawing near.

For parting passions--time compressed--

Are crudely felt and ill-expressed;

And chilly as the good Dean's breast

Is Boston's winter at its best.

The cold stone steps outside the houses

Have not the atmosphere which rouses

The feeling waked by well-filled blouses,

(Line censored -- Ed.)

If we can't make the clock stand still,

We'll go to Wheaton -- Damn -- we will!!

But they didn't mean it for a minute. Once more we must turn to fact over fancy; 6 out of 10 Radcliffe girls, marry Harvard men. Perhaps the Harvard attitude was no more than a cry of protest; now that cry is no more than a gasp. Harvard has almost completely succumbed to the charms of Radcliffe.