But, soft! what light through yonder computer screen breaks? It is the east, and Mr Hegarty is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou maths teacher art far more intelligent than she: Be not his workings out, since they are long; His workings out are but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is Mr Hegarty, O, it is him! O, that he knew he were! He marks yet he says nothing: what of that? His eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me he speaks
Two of the best maths teachers in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat his maths To twinkle in their numbers till they return. What if his maths were there, they in his head? The brightness of his computer screen would shame those maths teachers, As daylight doth a computer screen; his maths in heaven Would through the airy region stream so intelligent That maths teachers would cry and think it were not right. See, how he leans his pen upon his whiteboard! O, that I were a pen upon that whiteboard, That I might touch that workings out
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🎀Mr Hegarty 🎀
HumorAn anthology of HegartyMaths-inspired pieces, rewritten from classics