The night was dark, the way was steep:
I scarcely, for fatigue, could creep.
“Fatigue, begone!” I cried. Not so;
It tarried and would not bego.
At length the last wan glimmer died,
Of hope that lit up my inside.
I let go all, and thought to sink
Back, headlong, from the mountain’s brink.
But ere I fell my startled eyes
Beheld a wonder in the skies.
I grasped again a friendly tree,
To stay me till I more could see.
(When shows are free that men admire
’Tis most unthrifty to expire.)
Seven clustered planets rose as one;
Their light was like another sun!
Straight upward to the zenith they,
Without defection, held their way.
Then paused, revealing with their light
A massive building on the height.
Before my very eyes its face
It reared; my feet were at its base.
And well I knew that I had clomb
To Lick’s renowned memorial dome,
Where Holden’s mammoth tube betrays
The stellar gambols to his gaze.
With lifted brow and heart elate
I entered by the stranger’s gate.
Smit with a reverential awe,
The great man’s figure there I saw.
He sat bolt upright in a chair—
Legs crossed, arms folded and head bare.
No king that I had ever seen
(Nor surely any jack nor queen)
Had ever on a golden throne
With such a gracious aspect shone.
The giant telescope, reversed,
Seemed diving from the sky head first!
Its broader end remained at rest
Within two yards of Holden’s breast.
“O mighty scientist,” I cried,
“Let me beneath this dome abide.
“The night is bad, and o’er your roof
Seven crazy planets are aloof.
“The trails are terrors to my shanks;
I dread the planetary pranks!”
He deigned no word, but gave the nod.
That sign of an assenting god.
Meantime the telescope’s great eye
With splendor smote him, hip and thigh.
It seethed him in a lambent light,
Sharp, searching, glorious and white!
“Illustrious man,” I said again,
“This mystery I pray explain.
“Why is the glass reversed, and why
Are you in session ’neath its eye?
“ ’Tis little that I know of stars,
And Venus is to me as Mars;
“But, pardon me, I know aright
How gentlemen should pass the night.”
That great professor smiled, and O,
The smile was light and cold as snow!
“Know, then,” he said “that what you view
Is payment of a debt long due.
“For years I’ve watched the planets roll,
And mapped the stars from pole to pole.
“ ’Tis true I once, the people say,
Charted the lights of San Jose,
“But, generally speaking, I
Can tell the valley from the sky.
“Those planets up in Heaven’s high cope
I long have studied through the ’scope.
“Fair play’s a jewel, and to-night
Their observation I invite.
“I turn the tube and, as you see,
Permit them now to study Me.”
Next morn as on my way I sped,
“I’ve seen a just, good man,” I said.