Monday, September 30, 2013

Well Donne

Once, I was in a sea of persons at the airport and I heard chime over the loudspeaker, "Paging John Donne. Please come to ___ airlines service desk." I laughed. Probably it was John Dunn, a common enough name. But sometimes I have wondered if that announcer was more interested in literature than in paging people. Perhaps he was playing a hilarious joke that only he, and a very few other literary travellers, could smile about to themselves.

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

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