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The swift perched, tweeting like a petty tyrant,
    Ruffling the feathers of self-love and power,
And dropped his siftings on a fire hydrant
    To show the under-world, from hour to hour,
All things of grace, necessity, and toil
Were eyed by him and subject to his spoil. 

—James Matthew Wilson

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Dear Reader,

Time is short, so I’ll be direct: FIRST THINGS needs you. And we need you by December 31 at 11:59 p.m., when the clock will strike zero. Give now at supportfirstthings.com.

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