O fortunatos—Do we ever know

Our happiness till we lose it? You’ll remember

Those Georgics—the great praise of Science, Jean!

And that immortal picture of the bees!

No doubt you have chosen rightly. For myself,

I know, at least, where healing dittany grows,

And where earth’s beauty hides in its dark heart

An anodyne, at last, for all our pain.

And one thing more I have learned, and see with awe

On every side, more clearly, that on earth