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F. V. BRANFORD



FAREWELL TO MATHEMATICS

I laboured on the anvil of my brain
And beat a metal out of pageantry.
Figure and form I carry in my train
To load the scaffolds of Eternity.
Where the masters are
Building star on star;
Where, in solemn ritual,
The great Dead Mathematical
Wait and wait and wait for me.

To the deliberate presence of the Sun
(Bright cynosure of every darkling sign,
Wherein all numbers consummate in One,)
Poised on the bolt of an Un-finite line,
As one whose spirit's state,
Is unafraid but desperate,
Through far unfathomed fears,
Through Time to timeless years,