The Spike Golden Jubilee Number May 1949
Above the books the Nephilim appear
Who were the founders and the first professors,
With choleric or melancholy faces:
A gorgon or a painter froze them there.
Call upon Galen and they will not hear,
Summon the Absolute from perilous places,
Wrestle with truth at Sinai or Eleusis—
These gently gather dust, and do not stir.
Yet they were lovers underneath their beards
Once, and drank better boose than Waitemata;
Stormed lecture-rooms like Goths, strode over shards
With smoking pestle, reared their Alma Mater.
You are their floreant, your liveliest phrase
Epigenous to their prepotencies.