This morning I’m about to get on the T and go to Cambridge City Hall for a significant personal event. I’d like to celebrate the occasion with a few lines of verse by the great mathematician (and lesser poet) James Joseph Sylvester. (A tip of the top hat to Jerry Alexanderson for bringing Sylvester’s versifying to my attention.)

Fairest, O ! of lily-kind,
Perfect pearl and priceless find !
Pure as poet’s milk-white hind,
Spirit ! from all dross refined,
Hearts to ravish Heav’n-designed ;
Fresh as rills that sparkling wind
On their way the sea to find,
[O’er smooth pebble-bed patíned.]
Dew-drop ! on which sun hath shined,
Shedding glamour undefined,
And a light that doth remind
of the cloudless heav’n behind.
Whose light laugh, like bells sweet-chimed,
[Or hushed trill of bow refined
Touched with fingers taper-tined,]
Piercing feeling’s inmost rind,
Tone-spray tossing on the wind
Leaves no smart unmedicined.

  With fond folly all untined,
  To each duteous law resigned ;
    (Round her finger she can wind
    All to obey her disinclined :
    Who so wilful or so blind
    To say nay to Rosalind !)

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