To apply, or not to apply, that is the question:

Whether ‘tis prudent in the mind to choose

The schools and programs of prestigious standing

Or to take arms against parental expectations

And by opposing, be disowned. To sleep – to cry,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The torments and over-caffeinated nights

Seniors are heir to: ‘tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to fail – ay, there’s the rub:

For in that sleep we’ll fail what tests may come,

When we have slept instead of studying,

Must give us fear – there’s the respect

That makes scholars of us unwilling.

For who would bear the tribulations of Algeo,

Counting tests, mathematical induction

Problem sets, and sinusoidal functions

And practice questions to avoid mistakes

When he himself might his quietus make

With procrastination? What would students bear,

To grunt and sweat under a Calc textbook,

But that the dread of failing all their tests

The unbridled expectations, from whose bourn,

All students fall diseased, (millennial angst)

And makes us rather bear the stress we have

Than go instead to community college?

Thus reputation does make dunces of us all,

And thus the sweet rose of youthful aspiration

Is sicklied o’er with a green taint – for aught

And inmost dreams of fantastic scale and zeal

With this regard have their essence swept away

And lose the life within. Soft you now,

The fair McMaster! Sir, in thy gentle hands

Be all my marks (please?) boosted.