Communication & Rhetoric of Science / Monthly Science Poem

The Final Sunday’s Science Poem

And from my pillow, looking forth by light

Of moon or favouring stars, I could behold

The Antechapel where the Stature stood

Of Newton with his prism and his silent face,

The marble index of a Mind for ever

Voyaging through strange seas of Thought,

alone…

William Wordsworth, The Prelude (1850), Book III lines 58-64

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