The Bat

“The bat is dun, with wrinkled wings” /

The bat is dun, with wrinkled wings
Like fallow article,
And not a song pervades his lips,
Or none perceptible.

His small umbrella, quaintly halved,
Describing in the air
An arc alike inscrutable,—
Elate philosopher!

Deputed from what firmament
Of what astute abode,
Empowered with what malevolence
Auspiciously withheld.

To his adroit Creator
Ascribe no less the praise;
Beneficent, believe me,
His eccentricities.

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Also in this Issue

Issue 48 / May 12, 2016
  1. Editor’s Note

    Issue 48: A spiraling world of numbers, a revealing stone, and our distinct differences. /

  2. How Plants Count

    The language of the universe starts “1, 1, 2.” /

  3. Two Towns’ Eureka Moments

    How a fishing village and an old lumber station are revealing mysteries about the galaxy and ancient Jewish worship. /

  4. A Peculiar People

    We’re made different from each other to be different together. /

  5. Wonder on the Web

    Issue 48: Links to amazing stuff.

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