*For Thomas V. Morris and William J. Bennett
In gratitude for a wonderful summer at Notre Dame*
O, thou dry Jansenist! A night of fire
Left in your pocket like a shopping list
Sitting quietly in a room, will never burn
To set your sere and withered soul alight
And one might wager that your calculator
In brass, for counting brass, touches not the heart
Which has its reasons which the mind knows too
Pensees which never make a night a day
Forgive thou, then, this lettre provincial
And count it as a friend’s memorial
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
*For Thomas V. Morris and William J. Bennett
In gratitude for a wonderful summer at Notre Dame*
O, thou dry Jansenist! A night of fire
Left in your pocket like a shopping list
Sitting quietly in a room, will never burn
To set your sere and withered soul alight
And one might wager that your calculator
In brass, for counting brass, touches not the heart
Which has its reasons which the mind knows too
Pensees which never make a night a day
Forgive thou, then, this lettre provincial
And count it as a friend’s memorial