MAXWELL'S TYNDALLIC ODE 173 



4 



I light this sympathetic flame 



My slightest wish that answers. 

 I sing, it sweetly sings the same, 



It dances with the dancers. 

 I shout, I whistle, clap my hands, 



I stamp about the platform, 

 The flame responds to my commands 



In this form and in that form. 



5 

 This crystal tube, the electric ray 



Shows optically clean, 

 No dust nor haze within, but stay, 



All has not yet been seen. 

 What gleam is this of heavenly blue, 



What wondrous form appearing, 

 What mystic fish, what whale, that through 



The ethereal void is steering ! 



Here let me pause, these passing facts 



These fugitive impressions 

 Must be transformed by mental acts 



To permanent possessions. 

 Then summon up your grasp of mind 



Your fancy scientific, 

 That sights and sounds, with thoughts combined, 



May be of truth prolific. 



7 



Go to ! prepare your mental bricks, 



Bring them from every quarter, 

 Firm on the sand your basement fix 



With best asphaltic mortar. 

 The pile shall rise to heaven on high 



To such an elevation 

 That the swift whirl with which we fly 



Shall conquer gravitation. 



w 



The following letter written to Tait immediately after the Belfast meeting of 

 the B. A. in 1874, when Tyndall delivered the presidential address, gives an additional 

 verse to the Ode as well as other quaint imaginings. 



