“O glorious day! O bounteous Fortune, who now with gilded hath turned her wheel to let Light again touch this poor wretch ‘pon the brow and bless this vessel with sacred sensation! O Lights of Heaven, which this day pour o’er the Earth in rivers of well-met regard, as each precious ray illuminates once hidden but now heroic meaning! I see with new and enchanted eyes, which make more beautiful each once-dull object upon which I gaze! I feel with the very depthless depths of feeling, as I have not felt since I was a child, when the world was new and mysterious to mine touch and I discovered each new sweet thrill of mine being without prejudice of past bitterness! And what taste I with these new soft lips and this red tongue, which in each spoken word reflects the new animating passion of mine heart, now open to kiss each spoken utterance as if love of meaning itself were their natural mate? I have tasted, and now will ever taste as ambrosia in my memory, the sandwich of the—“
The Sandwich
The Sandwich
The Sandwich
“O glorious day! O bounteous Fortune, who now with gilded hath turned her wheel to let Light again touch this poor wretch ‘pon the brow and bless this vessel with sacred sensation! O Lights of Heaven, which this day pour o’er the Earth in rivers of well-met regard, as each precious ray illuminates once hidden but now heroic meaning! I see with new and enchanted eyes, which make more beautiful each once-dull object upon which I gaze! I feel with the very depthless depths of feeling, as I have not felt since I was a child, when the world was new and mysterious to mine touch and I discovered each new sweet thrill of mine being without prejudice of past bitterness! And what taste I with these new soft lips and this red tongue, which in each spoken word reflects the new animating passion of mine heart, now open to kiss each spoken utterance as if love of meaning itself were their natural mate? I have tasted, and now will ever taste as ambrosia in my memory, the sandwich of the—“