Bow down in hope, in thanks, all ye who mourn;--
-Where'in that peerless arche of radiant hues
-Surpassing earthly tints,--the storm subdues!
Of nature's strife and tears 'tis heaven-born,
To soothe the sad, the sinning and forlorn;
-A lovely loving token to infuse;
-The hope, the faith, that pow'r divine endures
With latent good the woes by which we're torn.--
'Tis like a sweet repentance of the skies,
-To beckon all by sense of sin opprest,--
-Revealing harmony from tears and sighs!
A pledge:--that deep implanted in the breast
-A hidden light may burn that never dies,
But bursts thro' clouds in purest hues exprest!
-- Ada Lovelace, born this day in 1815
Mathematician, poet, Lord Byron's daughter, and inventor of the idea of a computer program. She worked with Charles Babbage, who constructed the first mechanical computer, based on gears and rack-and-pinion action, and designed more sophisticated logic engines, which proved too expensive with the manufacturing techniques available in the first half of the 19th Century.
