The Atlantic makes its entire 165-year archive available online – quite a big deal for those interested in American history.
A lovely brief reflection by my friend and colleague Frank Beckwith on his return to Catholicism fifteen years ago.
The next morning McCartney visited the house that the revellers [including John Lennon] were renting. ‘I remember Harry Nilsson offering me some angel dust,’ McCartney said. ‘I said, “What is it?” He said, “It’s elephant tranquilliser.” I said, “Is it fun?” He thought for about half a minute. “No, he said. I said, “Well, you know what, I won’t have any.”
Robert Frost, “The Silken Tent”
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To every thing on earth the compass round,
And only by one’s going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightlest bondage made aware.