THE NAUTILUS. 111 
written and addressed to him. The present time, when renewed in- 
terest in Conrad and his labors has lead to the republication of his 
chief works, seems an appropriate occasion for their presentation. 
TO TIMOTHY ABBOTT CONRAD, 
Poet and Scientist. 
Oft as the sons of Greece and Rome 
Returned victorious from afar, 
Their tyrants shouted ‘‘ Welcome home !”’ 
The while they shared the spoils of war. 
It mattered not that other lands 
To yield them wealth must lie in chains ; 
And naught, forsooth, were crimsoned hands, 
So other’s hearts impressed the stains. 
But where are now those soldiers brave, 
Both they who lost and they who won? 
They sleep forgotten in the grave, 
Their names and nations dead and gone. 
Not so have slept the gems of thought 
Born unto men far down the years ; 
These live—while deeds of valor wrought 
In battle have dissolved in tears. 
The world indeed has wiser grown 
Since Error’s clouds such shadows cast ; 
And few now dare to build a throne 
Upon the ruins of the past. 
*‘Grim visaged war,’’ rapine and strife, 
May clutch awhile their less’ning lease ; 
But knowledge is the soul of life, 
And knowledge hails the reign of Peace. 
To force of brutes, whose right is might, 
Eternal thought has ceased to yield ; 
The Day has dawned that rules the Night ; 
Fair Science now commands the field. 
With valiant hearts, and lips comprest, 
Her sons are wheeling into line, 
And woe betide the sable crest 
Of Error when their strokes combine. 
No nobler chief their legions know 
Than thou, whose victories I sing; 
No prouder wreath can men bestow 
Than round thy memory will cling. 
As bard or sage thou art the peer 
Of men embalmed in storied song, 
Who, holding truth and virtue dear, 
Both lived the right and scorned the wrong. 
Upon the fairest diadems 
Of Poesy thy name is east; 
And, grayen on Creation’s gems, 
Thy fame will live while ages last. 
