SONNET BY A GEOMETER

Few things are perfect: we bear Eden's scar;

Yet faulty man was godlike in design

That day when first, with stick and length of twine,

He drew me on the sand. Then what could mar

His joy in that obedient mystic line;

And then, computing with a zeal divine,

He called IEuro 3-point-14159

And knew my lovely circuit 2 IEuro r!

A circle is a happy thing to be —

Think how the joyful perpendicular

Erected at the kiss of tangency

Must meet my central point, my avatar!

They talk of 14 points: yet only 3

Determine every circle: = Q. E. D.=