Geology

In that small town was born a worthy wight,
(His honest townsmen well approve his worth,)
Whose mind has pierced the solid crust of earth.
And roam'd undaunted in the nether night.
His thought a quenchless incorporeal light.
Has thrid the labyrinth of a world unknown,
Where the old Gorgon time has turn'd to stone
Long thorny snake and monstrous lithophyte.
Long may St thou wander in that deep obscure,
And issuing thence, good sage, bring with thee still
That honest face, where truth and goodness shine ;
Right is thy creed, as all thy life is pure.
And yet if certain persons had their will.
The fate of Galileo had been thine.

Angels have wings ? Well, let them grow-
May it be long before you know

Whether they have or not.
But geese have wings, and quills as good,
Perhaps, as wings of angels could
Supply — could they be got.

But oh ! dear lady, why contrive
To make the vainest man alive

Conceited more than ever :
I will not call these pens divine.
But certain they were pens of thine,
And that's enough, however.