Sir Partofall, our Best, O the Physicist is

(Wizards of Oak Ridge and Los Alamos)

Your questrist foxing up a drug that may

Or may not, who knows … so (but not a word)

A livens wife’s and mother’s and son’s coffee

His own, therewith one holy night; next day

None descends, if the silence in the house

Is unusual and complete, like a curtain,

He will know (or will not, will he) he has failed.

Such a good Doctor nominate a beast

Or madman: if he reached the Chair alive,

O lucky Doctor. Let us hang our faith

—To master the power of the grave, much; more,

The power to unwit; most, curst and clouded shore,

The power of despair.—

Instead on him on to the Grail, throw the State there

To see what he can find

Useful for mankind,

Useful although uncertain:

Where Partsusall, transfigured, white with joy,

Smiles thro’ the blast and fiery wind spreading out from zero—