Psalm to an Engineer's Sweetheart

Verily, I say unto ye,
marry not an engineer.
For an engineer is a strange being
and possessed of many evils.

Yea, he speaketh always in parables
which he calleth formulae.
He wieldeth a big stick
which he calleth a slide rule.
And he hath only one bible,
a handbook.

He thinketh only of strains and stresses,
and without end of thermodynamics.
He showeth always a serious aspect
and seemeth not to know how to smile.
He picketh his seat in a car by the springs thereof
and not by the damsels.

Neither does he know a waterfall
except by its horsepower,
Nor a sunset
except that he must turn on the light,
Nor a damsel
except by her weight.

Always he carrieth his books with him,
and he entertaineth his sweetheart with steam tables.
Verily, though his damsel expecteth chocolates when he calleth,
She openeth the package to discover samples of iron ore.

Yea, he holdeth her hand
but to measure the friction thereof,
and kisseth her
only to test the viscosity of her lips,
for in his eyes shineth a far away look
that is neither love nor longing,
but a vain attempt to recall formulae.

Even as a boy, he pulleth a girl's hair
but to test its elasticity.
But as a man,
he deviseth different devices.
For he counteth the vibrations of her heartstrings
And seeketh ever to pursue his scientific investigations.

Even his own heart flutterings
he counteth as a measure of fluctuation.
And his marriage is but a
simultaneous equation involving two unknowns.
And yielding diverse results.

Verily, I say unto ye,
do not marry an engineer.