Poetry

When I Heard The Learn'd Astronomer

When I heard the learn'd astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and
measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much
applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

-Walt Whitman

This, I think, is my favorite poem by Whitman. See, I love science and astronomy in particular the only problem is that mathmatics is the language of Science. I hate mathmatics, thats not true I don't hate mathmatics, I'm just not any damn good at them. Anyway, I think old Walt here does a pretty good job at explaining how someone of a more literary bent might view astronomy. The numbers don't particularly matter, its the simple beauty of it that inspires. I could read an Astromomy textbook all day and not feel as good as if I just sat on the roof all night and stared at the stars.