red apple fell on Newton’s brilliant crown
to which he (Newton) cried indignantly
why, oh injurious fruit did you come down?

of a hundred brethren spread ‘cross these boughs
any good natured other would not have struck me
but you, you made this unwise choice, you chose

answer me! why fell you from high place whereon you grew?
then in pensive silence said hurtful globe did gather thought
til in response he simply whispered – “I do not know – it’s what I do…”