It would bring honour to all Denmark, sire,
If Tycho could forget his rank awhile,
And print these great discoveries in a book,
For all the world to read."
So Tycho Brahe
Received a letter in the king's own hand,
Urging him, "Truth is the one pure fountain-head
Of all nobility. Pray forget your rank."
His noble kinsmen echoed, "If you wish
To please His Majesty and ourselves, forget
Your rank."
"I will," said Tycho Brahe;
"Your reasoning has convinced me. I will print
My book, '_De Nova Stella._' And to prove
All you have said concerning temporal rank
And this eternal truth you love so well,
I marry, to-day,"--they foamed, but all their mouths
Were stopped and stuffed and sealed with their own words,--
"I marry to-day my own true love, Christine."
V
They thought him a magician, Tycho Brahe.
Perhaps he was. There's magic all around us
In rocks and trees, and in the minds of men,
Deep hidden springs of magic.
He that strikes
The rock aright, may find them where he will.
And Tycho tasted happiness in his hour.
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