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A generous friend in Lawrance Thompson's pages,
Largeness of soul in Robert Gittings' prose.
Gittings records with approval the verdict of Mr. Clodd that in Hardy "There was no large-
ness of soul."
running with the pollution
I run and coordinating agencies
A panel of experts new measures called for
The decision-making process funding more
Multi-disciplinary activities
Are in my fatty tissues and all these
Are in my liver supervision war
On crime fact-fi nding panel a hard core
The underlying causes facilities:
Well, that's our social climate and the air
Carries their fumes and particles everywhere
We breathe. But here's one runner that keeps clear
Of etic structures and such -- I hear the fi rst
Fibers of these, if you come in or near,
Will cause the alveoli in your lungs to burst.
slinking off
Open the morning paper, what do you see?
Tom L. and Abby W. in full stride,
The splendid young pair running side by side
Their dog loping between them happily
The fi nishing touch: I wish them well all three
And damn the lurking journalist who eyed
And caught them coming toward him in their pride
And put them there, a soon-yellowing cliché.