Now I, even I, would celebrate
in rhymes unapt, the great
immortal Syracusan, rivaled nevermore,
who in his wondrous lore,
passed on before,
left men his guidance,
how to circles mensurate.
(Adam Orr)
But a time I spent wandering in bloomy night;
yon tower, tinking chimewise, loftily opportune.
Out, up, and together came sudden to Sunday rite,
the one solemnly off to correct plenilune.
(J. Shipley)
