  TO PROFESSOR TYNDALL JUST take a trifling handful, O philosopher, Of magic matter, give it a slight toss over The ambient ether, and I don’t see why You shouldn’t make a sky. O hours Utopian which we may anticipate! Thick London fog how easy ’tis to dissipate, And make the most pea-soupy day as clear As Bass’s brightest beer! Poet-professor! now my brain thou kindlest; I am become a most determined Tyndallist. If it is known a fellow can make skies, Why not make bright blue eyes? This to deny, the folly of a dunce it is; Surely a girl as easy as a sunset is. If you can make a halo or eclipse, The creed of Archimedes, erst of Sicily, And of D’Israeli ... forti nil difficile, Is likewise mine. Pygmalion was a fool Who should have gone to school. Why should an author scribble rhymes or articles? Bring me a dozen tiny Tyndall particles; Therefrom I’ll coin a dinner, Nash’s wine, And a nice girl to dine. Mortimer Collins. |
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