I had the pleasure of encountering a classmate who remembered me from first year English literature (Grant Sampson’s class at Queen’s in the academic year ’78-’79) and our encounter was the happy occasion of a recollection, one indelible moment from that class: our professor’s cheerful explanation of the ending of Dryden’s Mac Flecnoe. We were called upon to pay attention to alliteration, context and parallelism or risk missing the joke.
The mantle fell to the young prophet’s part,
With double portion of his father’s art.
The last lines of Mac Flecknoe I may from time to time forget but the last word, not.
And so for day 793