With space their blackboard, spiders teach A science. Threads are chalk and speech. Among the morning-glory vines They demonstrate that parallel lines Never meet; the hypotenuse Is Nature's whimsical excuse For saving steps; (Ignoring the flow, The ripples made when breezes blow Upon the diagraming skein) -- A level surface is a plane. They trace a rhomboid in the air, An angle, octagon, a square; Or make a cobweb circle; draw In silver, a geometric law. Man often fails in comprehending. Spiders, thinking he's pretending, Patiently repeat the rule From dawn until the twilight's cool, And even by moonlight they rehearse Mathematics of the universe. |