The Old Astronomer
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 to now.
Pray remember that I leave you all my theory
complete,
Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is
meet,
And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original
and true,
And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on
you.
But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the
worth of scorn,
You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed
to be forlorn,
What for us are all distractions of men's
fellowship and wiles;
What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her
meretricious smiles.
You may tell that German College that their
honor comes too late,
But they must not waste repentance on the
grizzly savant's fate.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise
in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful
of the night.
What, my boy, you are not weeping?
You should
save your eyes for sight;
You will need them, mine observer, yet for many
another night.
I leave none but you, my pupil, unto whom my
plans are known.
You "have none but me," you murmur,
and I "leave you quite alone"?
Well then, kiss me, -- since my mother left her
blessing on my brow,
There has been a something wanting in my nature
until now;
I can dimly comprehend it, -- that I might have
been more kind,
Might have cherished you more wisely, as the one
I leave behind.
I "have never failed in kindness"?
No,
we lived too high for strife,--Calmest coldness was the error which has crept
into our life;
But your spirit is untainted, I can dedicate you
still
To the service of our science: you will further
it? you will!
There are certain calculations I should like to
make with you,
To be sure that your deductions will be logical
and true;
And remember, "Patience, Patience," is
the watchword of a sage,
Not to-day nor yet to-morrow can complete a
perfect age.
I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater
man may reap;
But if none should do my reaping, 'twill disturb
me in my sleep
So be careful and be faithful, though, like me,
you leave no name;
See, my boy, that nothing turn you to the mere
pursuit of fame.
I must say Good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot
longer speak;
Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision
grows too weak:
It is strange the pearly planet should look red
as fiery Mars,--God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst
the stars.
-Sarah Williams
