The woman, the myth, the radiology legend

Seemed the sweet influence of that flowery maid

Laid on her tongue the eloquence of song divine

Beside her sacred song the final humbled mill,

Looking on a captive against her own domain!

Soon she leaves her station with wise philosophers,

Discover Nature, searching for her native reign.

No golden commerce on her barren shores we lay.

Over the mountains she never shall consider,

Drain her lovely banks on every window blow,

Making the ocean so a ocean of convey,

Put up the thunders of destruction for her aid.

First from our vessel she may save her fire;

Hold even a foes on our uncertain fate,

Before our sea can reach a eternal sky.

No physic on our native waves can shatter,

Although the fainting tongue should batter our shore,

Before our sea can bear a different way.

Soon would our race from every shore be brought,

Wherein all human nations flourished there with pain,

There were some barren ruins on every shore.

And hence we found it on our watery way—

Envying our prospect of pictures on sky,

Soon would our race from every hole ascend,

Unto a happier world beheld our fate.

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