Pied UD

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Glory be to God for disheveled things 

For the mall couple-colored as a brindled cow

For muddy puddles and madonna pond in which we swim

Fires in the woods which give us wings 

Landscape barren and cig-strewn  — drab, cracked, and dead 

And all professors, their books and suits and hats 

All things out of order, brick, spare, strange

Whatever is dusty, well worn (who knows how?)

With chaos, calm; foul, faith; play, peace;

Her buildings and halls whose beauty is past change

Praise Him.

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