Written on his election to the Royal Society on 13 February 1845. Surely, he wrote it out of heart, but no clue as to what it is supposed to mean.

Borne upon Pterodactyl’s wings
This heart which once you deemed of stone
Model of maids, to thee I bring
And offer it to thee alone.

Not Owen pondering o’er bone
Of great Diornis, fonder grew
Of mighty wingless birds unknown
Than I, sweet maid, of you.

The Glyptodon, which Darwin found
Beside the South Atlantic main
Was in no harder armour bound
Than that my spirit did enchain

Till, bade by thee, Love rent in twain
The fetters, which my fancy tied
To boulder, glacier and moraine
And bore me to thy side.

Like some fantastic Trilobite
That perished in Silurian sea
And long lay hid from mortal sight
So was the heart I yield to thee.

Now from its strong matrix free
Thy Palaeontological skill
Once more hath called it forth to be
the servant of they will.

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