Oliver Wendell Holmes

A Farewell to Agassiz

How the mountains talked together,
         Looking down upon the weather,
         When they heard our friend had planned his
         Little trip among the Andes
         How they’ll bare their snowy scalps
         To the climber of the Alps
         When the cry goes through their passes,
         “Here comes the great Agassiz!”
         “Yes, I’m tall,” says Chimborazo,
         “But I wait for him to say so,—
         That’s the only thing that lacks,—he
         Must see me, Cotopaxi!”
         “Ay! ay!” the fire-peak thunders,
         “And he must view my wonders
         I’m but a lonely crater
         Till I have him for spectator!”
         The mountain hearts are yearning,
         The lava-torches burning,
         The rivers bend to meet him,
         The forests bow to greet him,
         It thrills the spinal column
         Of fossil fishes solemn,
         And glaciers crawl the faster
         To the feet of their old master!
         Heaven keep him well and hearty,
         Both him and all his party!
         From the sun that broils and smites,
         From the centipede that bites,
         From the hail-storm and the thunder,
         From the vampire and the condor,
         From the gust upon the river,
         From the sudden earthquake shiver,
         From the trip of mule or donkey,
         From the midnight howling monkey,
         From the stroke of knife or dagger,
         From the puma and the jaguar,
         From the horrid boa-constrictor
         That has scared us in the picture,
         From the Indians of the Pampas
         Who would dine upon their grampas,
         From every beast and vermin
         That to think of sets us squirmin’,
         From every snake that tries on
         The traveller his p’ison,
         From every pest of Natur’,
         Likewise the alligator,
         And from two things left behind him,
         (Be sure they’ll try to find him,)
         The tax-bill and assessor,—
         Heaven keep the great Professor!
         May he find, with his apostles,
         That the land is full of fossils,
         That the waters swarm with fishes
         Shaped according to his wishes,
         That every pool is fertile
         In fancy kinds of turtle,
         New birds around him singing,
         New insects, never stinging,
         With a million novel data
         About the articulata,
         And facts that strip off all husks
         From the history of mollusks.
 
         And when, with loud Te Deum,
         He returns to his Museum
         May he find the monstrous reptile
         That so long the land has kept ill
         By Grant and Sherman throttled,
         And by Father Abraham bottled,
         (All specked and streaked and mottled
         With the scars of murderous battles,
         Where he clashed the iron rattles
         That gods and men he shook at,)
         For all the world to look at!
         God bless the great Professor!
         And Madam, too, God bless her!
         Bless him and all his band,
         On the sea and on the land,
         Bless them head and heart and hand,
         Till their glorious raid is o’er,
         And they touch our ransomed shore!
         Then the welcome of a nation,
         With its shout of exultation,
         Shall awake the dumb creation,
         And the shapes of buried aeons
         Join the living creature’s paeans,
         Till the fossil echoes roar;
         While the mighty megalosaurus
         Leads the palaeozoic chorus,
         God bless the great Professor,
         And the land his proud possessor,—
         Bless them now and evermore!
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