On graduation

This day relenting God
Hath placed within my hand
A wondrous thing; and God
Be praised. At his command,

Seeking the secret pictures
With toil and shedding tears,
I find thy cunning structures,
O plasma pervading the equator.

I know this little ending
A myriad hours has brought,
O Defense, where is thy sting?
Thy victory, O phoebe?

(adapted from "By Ronald Ross on Malaria")