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Poem by James Clerk Maxwell


Song Of The Cub


I know not what this may betoken,
That I feel so wondrous wise;
My dream of existence is broken
Since science has opened my eyes.
At the British Association
I heard the Presidents speech,
And the methods and facts of creation
Seemed suddenly placed in my reach.

My lifes undivided devotion
To Science I solemnly vowed,
Id dredge up the bed of the ocean,
Id draw down the spark from the cloud.
To follow my thoughts as they go on,
Electrodes Id place in my brain;
Nay, I'd swallow a live entozöon,
New feelings of life to obtain.

O where are those high feasts of Science?
O where are those words of the wise?
I hear but the roar of Red Lions,
I eat what their Jackal supplies.
I meant to lie so scientific,
But science seems turned into fun;
And this, with his roaring terrific,
That old red lion bath done. 



James Clerk Maxwell


James Clerk Maxwell's other poems:
  1. In Memory of Edward Wilson, Who Repented of what was in his Mind to Write after Section
  2. Numa Pompilius
  3. On St. David's Day
  4. Nathalocus
  5. Report On Tait's Lecture On Force


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