sonnetsThey laboured hard to kill the very thing
They swore at length did surely not exist;
Their modern electronic imaging
Came nowhere close to showing what they missed;
Within their shining labs they laboured long,
Expending effort far beyond belief
While learning not where they went sadly wrong,
And this, too, plunged them into mortal grief;
Vain hope to slay what none of them could find,
Which dullards said they saw by night and day,
Rebuked each finely educated mind
Much more than any one of them could say;
Again they studied every chart and graph,
And cooing thus, the Paraclete did laugh.




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