Reach me down my Tycho Brahé,—I would know him when we meet,
When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;
He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how
We are working to completion, working on from then till now.
Pray, remember, that I leave you all my theory complete,
Lacking only...
Upon the Professor we'll waste not a glance,
Since he has no eyes for us poor terrestrials;
With his heart can we have any possible chance,
When he gives us for rivals a host of celestials?
What cares he for eyes, whether hazel or blue,
Or for any slight...
When the Astronomer stops seeking
For his Pleiad's Face —
When the lone British Lady
Forsakes the Arctic Race
When to his Covenant Needle
The Sailor doubting turns —
It will be amply early
To ask what treason means.