Mary Louise smiled and, taking from the book shelves a well worn copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, turned the leaves at random and read bits aloud.
“With Earth’s first Clay They did the Last Man knead,
And there of the Last Harvest sow’d the Seed:
And the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
* * * * * *
As under cover of departing Day
Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazán away,
Once more within the Potter’s house alone
I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.