This was a text too, I was a math student but it was not a class I had, this was a 19th century book.

The owner had embellished the inner covers and a few blank pages there.

In the most beautiful handwriting from a bold ink pen were a number of short passages, and one I will never forget:

Remember me when death shall close

my eyelids in the last repose

And evening breezes gently wave

the grass above your schoolmate's grave.