(Tune: "I'm called Little Buttercup")
Aria.
I'm called an astronomer, skilful astronomer,
Though I could never tell why;
But yet an astronomer, happy astronomer,
Modest astronomer, I.
I read the thermometers, break the photometers,
Mend them with paper and wax;
I often lament that so seldom is spent
A fair evening on star parallax.
I write many letters, give aid to my betters,
And often sit up late o'nights
To catch a few glimpses of the many eclipses
of Jupiter's bright satellites.
I'm called an astronomer, skilful astronomer,
Though I could never tell why;
But yet an astronomer, happy astronomer,
Modest astronomer, I.
From: The Observatory Pinafore, Harvard
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