Friday, July 3, 2015


When the barefoot friars left the Temple of Jupiter
They took the ghost of Edward Gibbon with them
Though a mocker and an infidel he had, in most ways,
Been a courteous and at times beloved cohabitant
Helping the young postulants with their Latin,
Conversing with the eldest friars when, sleepless,
They were ashamed to speak convent gossip to God.
Death improved him and he became less petulant
If less urbane. His little round mouth relaxed
And, violating the strictures of his youth,
He sometimes, not unkindly, laughed aloud.
Christmas Eves he would tactfully absent himself
Going to the barn to listen to such of the cows
As chose to the use their
midnight license,
Conversing with him in a human language.

No comments:

Post a Comment