Within the world of very small
Exists the tiniest whit of all,
One whose digits add no gain
To a nit or single grain;
And if a whit measures snow,
Add one flake to winter’s toll.
Even with size so extreme,
Divisible still is scale by scheme;
For whit over whit tallies well
Numbering a world with much to tell:
From optimum length to girth of stars,
From total lift to time to Mars.
And thus we tout Sir Isaac’s whit
Praising both beauty and benefit,
Yet, ol’ Leibniz can claim...A good half of it!
[ Newton’s Whit ]
[ Ref: Calculus Without Limits by John C. Sparks ]
[ Philosophy of Zero, #EOL ]
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