100
A science—so the Savants say,
"Comparative Anatomy"—
By which a single bone—
Is made a secret to unfold
Of some rare tenant of the mold,
Else perished in the stone—
So to the eye prospective led,
This meekest flower of the mead
Upon a winter's day,
Stands representative in gold
Of Rose and Lily, manifold,
And countless Butterfly!
Emily Dickinson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-science-mdash-so-the-savants-say/
