The atomists next let us praise, Epicurus, Lucretius, and all. Let us damn with faint praise Bishop Butler, in whom many atoms combined To form that remarkable structure it pleased him to call--his mind. Last, praise we the noble body to which, for the time, we belong, Ere yet the swift whirl of the atoms has hurried us, ruthless, along, The British Association--like Leviathan worshipped by Hobbes, The incarnation of wisdom, built up of our witless nobs, Which will carry on endless discussions when I, and probably you, Have melted in infinite azure--in English, till all is blue. MOLECULAR EVOLUTION. _Belfast, 1874._ At quite uncertain times and places, The atoms left their heavenly path, And by fortuitous embraces Engendered all that being hath. And though they seem to cling together, And form “associations” here, Yet, soon or late, they burst their tether, And through the depths of space career. So we who sat, oppressed with science, As British Asses, wise and grave, Are now transformed to wild Red Lions,[44] As round our prey we ramp and rave. Thus, by a swift metamorphōsis, Wisdom turns wit, and science joke, Nonsense is incense to our noses, For when Red Lions speak they smoke. Hail, Nonsense! dry nurse of Red Lions,[45] From thee the wise their wisdom learn; From thee they cull those truths of science, Which into thee again they turn. What combinations of ideas Nonsense alone can wisely form! What sage has half the power that she has, To take the towers of Truth by storm? Yield, then, ye rules of rigid reason! Dissolve, thou too, too solid sense! Melt into nonsense for a season, Then in some nobler form condense. Soon, all too soon, the chilly morning This flow of soul will crystallise; Then those who Nonsense now are scorning May learn, too late, where wisdom lies. TO THE COMMITTEE OF THE CAYLEY PORTRAIT FUND. 1874. O wretched race of men, to space confined! What honour can ye pay to him, whose mind To that which lies beyond hath penetrated? The symbols he hath formed shall sound his praise, And lead him on through unimagined ways To conquests new, in worlds not yet created. First, ye Determinants! in ordered row And massive column ranged, before him go, To form a phalanx for his safe protection. Ye powers of the _n^{th}_ roots of -1! Around his head in ceaseless[46] cycles run, As unembodied spirits of direction.