For Bill and Don

A long time ago, when Blogaria was experiencing its first population explosion, Halley sat with her dad through his dying. That was April 9. Back then I blogged one of my favorite poems for her, and for her father: Robert Herrick’s elegy for his friend, Ben Jonson. This afternoon I’m repeating it, for my own Dad.

An Ode for Him

Ah Ben!
Say how, or when
Shall we thy guests
Meet at those lyric feasts
Made at the Sun,
The Dog, the Triple Tun?
Where we such clusters had
As made us nobly wild, not mad;
And yet each verse of thine
Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
 
My Ben
Or come again,
Or send to us
Thy wit’s great overplus;
But teach us yet
Wisely to husband it;
Lest we that talent spend,
And having once brought to an end
That precious stock, the store
Of such a wit the world should have no more.

                  — Robert Herrick
 
For Bill Suitt and Don Adam
 

1 comment / Add your comment below

  1. Having just returned from a vacation free of internet technology (a concept barely imaginable a week ago, but clearly survivable), we have just learned of your father’s death. We are sorry for your loss. May you be blessed with tears and laughter at unpredicatable moments as perfectly mundane and sometimes extraordinary events, objects, and people remind you of him. You and your family are in our prayers. – Debra & Andrea

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