‘Unwove that Rhadamanthine frown
Which I had made myself, my star
For I was counsel for the crown,
‘And I the prisoner at the bar,
Did you not see—the sight is sad !—
‘How tiny was the part you played,
How little use the poet had
‘Byen in Maytime for a maid?
Why! all's a whirl; but I, be sure,
‘Am axle, if at all I be,
So you, if yet your light endure,
‘Are model, and no more, to me
So well you sit, though, you shall earn
Beyond your hourly increment
A knowledge. Are you fit to learn,
Or will you rather be content
With muddled mighty talk of Teutons
Evolving from the tangled Skein,
ues 16 h compared to Newton's