"TWINKLE, twinkle, pretty star! How I wonder what, in thunder- Clouds, and lightning, sparkling, bright'ning, You are doing up so far?" Thus, an hundred years gone by, Sang an Orphic poet-prophet, Though his version's vast "Excursion" Could not reach the future sky. Had he been Poughkeepsie's seer- Seer aesthetic, seer magnetic- Mr. Godey's "heavenly bodies" Soon had made the matter clear. Had he seen our "evening star," "Fixed" for-roving, magnet moving, Cloudward sailing, past all hailing, Glancing from her magic car; Had he watched it, onward, higher, Like a flighty aphrodite, 'Mid the million-starred pavilion, 'Bove the dreams of Mongolfier; 'Bove the realms of owl or bat- Daily, nightly, swiftly, lightly, Gas inflated, beauty freighted- These were sights to wonder at! But they saw not (beetles blind!) The beginning of the spinning Of the history of the mystery Of this century's "march of mind." Nor saw they the hidden powers, Ever lurking, upward working Through each feature of all nature, Now in earthquakes, now in flowers. Steam they found could drive a fleet, Print their puzzling books and muslin; But they little its own kettle Thought to boil with its own heat. Well knew they the lightning's fire, Trained to traffic telegraphic, Heat in harness, flashing far-ness, Trembling o'er the throbbing wire. Sol, they knew, could paint a face, Smile and dimple, wart and pimple- Now we soon shine, "done" by moonshine, With a transcendental grace. Much was known to seer and seeker; "Knockings," "notions," perpetual motion-s! Arts arcanum-we explain 'em; Where they guessed-we cry Eureka! Wood and coal are obsolete! All our roasting, lighting, toasting Out of water's Paine-ful torture, We contrive to make complete. We've no use fo rail-cars black- Black and ugly, moving slugly; Springing flowers, vine-clad bowers, And velvet moss now hide their track. Cities now are seen no more; Costly bubbles, filled with troubles, Where men swelter helter-skelter, Laboring at the golden ore. Nothing now is bought or sold, Men are brothers (women "bothers!"), Each thy neighbor-land and labor Cheap as California gold. Once, let any one be ailing, M.D.'s lancet; cups-"sick transit, Gloria mundi"-but, by Sunday, Slowly cab and hearse were trailing. Health now blooms in every dell; Truthlike seen, a bright Undine; Priessnitz crowned her where he found her, In the bottom of a well. No one now need die of pain; Pill and potion sunk in ocean; Thirst for slaughter quenched by water, Love now rules our wide domain. Phalanx Fourier rules the world! One big ladle! one long cradle!- All the rock-work done by clock-work! Infancy to manhood whirled!