Already the convolvulus moth was spinning over the flowers.

As she a black silk cap on him begun / To set, for foil of his milk-white to serve.

But in [Isaac] Newton, science was as easy as breathing; he used the same wit to weigh the moon that he used to buckle his shoes; and all his life was simple, wise, and majestic. So it was in Archimedes,—always self-same, like the sky.

How jointlessly, and how jointlessly The frivolous cake sailed by On the waves of the ocean that pointlessly Threw fish to the lilac sky.