Classic Poem

How oft, Proud Science, in these latter days
Thy name hath grown of honest men abhorred!
Yet with unnumbered miracles hast thou stored
Our treasure-house, revealing easiest ways
Whereby each element in swift relays
Shall serve man's purpose. " Fool, and who else hath poured
" As I such benefactions? At a word
" Flooding earth's darkness with my piercing rays! "

Great Goddess, pardon! Silent is th' abuse.
Yet oh! might there come with thee locked hand-in-hand
Wisdom, thine elder sister, to restrain
Our senseless energies from wild misuse!
Then were we sworn of thy devoted band
But to ennoble life or soothe its pain.