Sir, I bear a rhyme excelling
In mystic force and magic spelling
Celestial sprites elucidate
All my own striving can’t relate.
What am I?
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Adored by few,
Feared and hated by many.
Mistress of the entire universal reason,
Master in the art of numbers.
Some may have solved many of your mysteries,
But there still much of them to find.
What are they?
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A woman with no driver license goes the wrong way on a one-way street and turns left at a corner with a ‘no left’ turn sign. A policeman sees her but does nothing. Why?
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Make me thy lyre, even as the forests are.
What if my leaves fell like its own –
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep autumnal tone.
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