Sweep the pale hair, like wings, above the ears; Whittle the nose, and carve and bone the jaw; Blank the studying eyes, till human fears Eliminate in universal law. Slack the mortal shirt, stiffen the hands, Holding the dear old pipe, half-smoked, unlit — So, lovingly, we loose Orion's Bands And write equation with the Infinite.

The Ballad of New York, New York, and Other Poems 1930-1956, Portrait of a Mathematician, Doubleday & Company, Inc. 1950