To The Chief Musician Upon Nabla: A Tyndallic Ode (James Clerk Maxwell Poems)
I. I come from fields of fractured ice, Whose wounds are cured by squeezing, Melting they cool, but in a trice, Get warm again ...
I. I come from fields of fractured ice, Whose wounds are cured by squeezing, Melting they cool, but in a trice, Get warm again ...
Hallo ye, my fellows! arise and advance,See the white-crested waves how they stamp and they dance!High over the reef there ...
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