Classic Poem

Old man Euclid had 'em guessing.
He let the wise guys laugh and went his way.
Planes, solids, rhomboids, polygons—
Signs and cosines—
He had their number;
Even the division of a circle's circumference by its diameter never fazed him—
It was Pi to him.

Galileo told 'em something.
“You're nuts,” they said, “you for the padded cell, you for the booby hatch and the squirrel cage.”
“Have your laugh,” he answered.
“Have your laugh and let it ride.
Let it ride … for a thousand years or so.”

Newton let 'em grin and giggle.
He smiled when they chuckled, “Nobody home,”
He looked 'em over and went on listening to damsons, listening to autumn apples falling with their “now you see it, now you don't.”
“Maybe,” is all he told 'em, “perhaps is all the answer … perhaps and … who knows … in a thousand years.”

And now, bo, here's this Einstein;
Good for a laugh in all the funny sections,
Sure-fire stuff in movies, comic-operas, burlesque, jazz parlors, honky tonks, two-a-day.
Somebody asks him “How about Euclid? … Was he all twisted? … and is it true your kink in space will put the kibosh on Copernicus?”
Einstein looks 'em over and tells 'em “Maybe … and then again … perhaps.”
He says “The truth is all supposing … the truth is all … come back and ask me … in a thousand years.”