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James Clerk Maxwell
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James Clerk Maxwell poems, quotations and biography on James Clerk Maxwell poet page. Read all poems of James Clerk Maxwell and infos about James Clerk Maxwell.
James Clerk Maxwell was a Scottish theoretical physicist and mathematician. His most important achievement was classical electromagnetic theory, synthesizing all previously unrelated observations, experiments and equations of electricity, magnetism and even optics into a consistent theory. His set of equations—Maxwell's equations—demonstrated that electricity, magnetism and even light are all manifestations of the same phenomenon: the electromagnetic field. From that moment on, all other classic laws or equations of these disciplines became simplified cases of Maxwell's equations. Maxwell's work in electromagnetism has been called the "second great unification in physics", after ... more »
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James Clerk Maxwell Poems
Horace, Seventh Epode
Whither, whither, reckless Romans,
Are you rushing, sword in hand?
Has not yet the blood of brothers,
Fully stained the sea and land?... more »
Answer To Tait
The mounted disk of ebonite
Has whirled before, nor whirled in vain;
Rowland of Troy, that doughty knight,
Convection currents did obtain... more »
A Problem In Dynamics
An inextensible heavy chain
Lies on a smooth horizontal plane,
An impulsive force is applied at A,
Required the initial motion of K.... more »
Molecular Evolution
At quite uncertain times and places,
The atoms left their heavenly path,
And by fortuitous embraces,
Engendered all that being hath.... more »
Lectures To Women On Physical Science
I.
PLACE. -- A small alcove with dark curtains.
The class consists of one member.... more »
Reflex Musings: Reflections From Various Surfaces
In the dense entangled street,
Where the web of Trade is weaving,
Forms unknown in crowds I meet
Much of each and all believing;... more »
Lines Written Under The Conviction That It Is Not Wise To Read Mathematics In November After One’s Fire Is Out
In the sad November time,
When the leaf has left the lime,
And the Cam, with sludge and slime,
Plasters his ugly channel,... more »
All poems of James Clerk Maxwell »
Horace, Seventh Epode
Whither, whither, reckless Romans,
Are you rushing, sword in hand?
Has not yet the blood of brothers,
Fully stained the sea and land?
Not that raging conflagration
Should o’er fallen Carthage play;
Not that the unconquered Briton
Should descend the sacred way.
"Rome," exclaims the joyful Parthian,
"Ruin for herself prepares;
Wolves with wolves are never savage,
Lion lion never tears."
Is this fury? is it madness?
Speedy answer I demand;
Foolish, blinded, guilty Romans,
Silent, stupefied you stand. [590]
Thus ’tis fated, blood of ...
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