Sasha and I had a poetry battle today at the Delegation and Privatization break. The weapon of choice? Hopkins.
I opened with the appropriately-themed Spring and Fall.
The eminent Professor Volokh struck back with an animated God's Grandeur.
But no sooner had he finished then I parried and conquered with The Windhover.
Reeling at this point, Sasha muttered the opening line to Pied Beauty, but then--wisely--surrendered and started class.
You don't get tenure for recitations of verse, after all, and time is limited.
(It is the blight man was born for,
It is your hairline you mourn for.)