Julian Huxley was an avid science populariser, researched into the metamorphosis of axolotls, and wrote poetry. I'm pretty sure that these interests were combined in a poem I once came across, possibly in his book Essays of a Biologist. The verse that I remember best (you can see why) went something like this:
Growing up, without, this curious gland,
He cannot hope, to salamand,
His life's ambition, doomed to throttle,
He must remain, an axolotl.
Does anybody recognise it? I've tried searching Google, and also the databases of several poetry societies. None of the latter accept Julian Huxley as a poet, and I can't find the text through them or through Google. I'm surprised that very little of Huxley's writing is online.
Note added September 9th
I've remembered that (I think) Huxley wrote that either the final two lines I quoted, or the entire verse, weren't his but were given him by a friend. I recall that when I first read that, it confirmed my thought that they had a different feel to the rest of the poem. Less serious, and in my opinion, more enjoyable. Maybe I felt the rest rather portentous.