"Your
years of toil,"
Said Ryle to Hoyle,
"Are wasted years, believe me.
The steady state
Is out of date.
Unless my eyes deceive me,
My telescope
Has dashed your hope;
Your tenets are refuted.
Let me be terse:
Our universe
Grows daily more diluted!"
Said Hoyle,
"You quote
Lemaître, I note,
And Gamow. Well, forget them!
That errant gang
And their Big Bang—
Why aid them and abet them?
You see,
my friend,
It has no end
And there was no beginning,
As Bondi, Gold,
And I will hold
Until our hair is thinning!"
"Not
so!" cried Ryle
With rising bile
And straining at the tether;
"Far galaxies
Are, as one sees,
More tightly packed together!"
"You
make me boil!"
Exploded Hoyle,
His statement rearranging;
"New matter's born
Each night and morn.
The picture is unchanging!"
"Come
off it, Hoyle!
I aim to foil
You yet" (The fun commences)
"And in a while"
Continued Ryle,
"I'll bring you to your senses!"
