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
Four years ago today, my Dad died.
What’s good ?
Life’s good –
But not fair at all
— Lou Reed
I’m remembering him, and thinking of how wonderfully my internet friends reached out and helped me along. Thank you.
And thanks, Dad.