To The Chief Musician Upon Nabla: A Tyndallic Ode Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDEDE A FGFHIJKJ A DLDLMNMO P QJQJRCRC P SFSFTUTU P VWVXYYZY P YYYYA2B2A2B2 P YC2YC2PWPW| I | A |
| - | |
| I come from fields of fractured ice | B |
| Whose wounds are cured by squeezing | C |
| Melting they cool but in a trice | B |
| Get warm again by freezing | C |
| Here in the frosty air the sprays | D |
| With fernlike hoar frost bristle | E |
| There liquid stars their watery rays | D |
| Shoot through the solid crystal | E |
| - | |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| I come from empyrean fires | F |
| From microscopic spaces | G |
| Where molecules with fierce desires | F |
| Shiver in hot embraces | H |
| The atoms clash the spectra flash | I |
| Projected on the screen | J |
| The double D magnesian b | K |
| And Thallium's living green | J |
| - | |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| We place our eye where these dark rays | D |
| Unite in this dark focus | L |
| Right on the source of power we gaze | D |
| Without a screen to cloak us | L |
| Then where the eye was placed at first | M |
| We place a disc of platinum | N |
| It glows it puckers will it burst | M |
| How ever shall we flatten him | O |
| - | |
| - | |
| IV | P |
| - | |
| This crystal tube the electric ray | Q |
| Shows optically clean | J |
| No dust or haze within but stay | Q |
| All has not yet been seen | J |
| What gleams are these of heavenly blue | R |
| What air drawn form appearing | C |
| What mystic fish that ghostlike through | R |
| The empty space is steering | C |
| - | |
| - | |
| V | P |
| - | |
| I light this sympathetic flame | S |
| My faintest wish that answers | F |
| I sing it sweetly sings the same | S |
| It dances with the dancers | F |
| I shout I whistle clap my hands | T |
| And stamp upon the platform | U |
| The flame responds to my commands | T |
| In this form and in that form | U |
| - | |
| - | |
| VI | P |
| - | |
| What means that thrilling drilling scream | V |
| Protect me 'tis the siren | W |
| Her heart is fire her breath is steam | V |
| Her larynx is of iron | X |
| Sun dart thy beams in tepid streams | Y |
| Rise viewless exhalations | Y |
| And lap me round that no rude sound | Z |
| May max my meditations | Y |
| - | |
| - | |
| VII | P |
| - | |
| Here let me pause These transient facts | Y |
| These fugitive impressions | Y |
| Must be transformed by mental acts | Y |
| To permanent possessions | Y |
| Then summon up your grasp of mind | A2 |
| Your fancy scientific | B2 |
| Till sights and sounds with thought combined | A2 |
| Become of truth prolific | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| VIII | P |
| - | |
| Go to prepare your mental bricks | Y |
| Fetch them from every quarter | C2 |
| Firm on the sand your basement fix | Y |
| With best sensation mortar | C2 |
| The top shall rise to heaven on high | P |
| Or such an elevation | W |
| That the swift whirl with which we fly | P |
| Shall conquer gravitation | W |
James Clerk Maxwell
(1)
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