On opening a long unopened book,
What dank whiff rises from the parting pages,
What genie is released, what dark spell broken,
As if some warm breath trapped inside for ages
Were by a daylight glance set free?
Your father’s hand has jotted in the margins
Its own blunt text of what must be
Lecture notes, and planted his place marker
Like a flag among the “Dry Salvages”
A college “schedule card,” a blank
Grid for weekly classes, and on the back”
O fees and late fees time alone assuages”
We know the longhand’s labored look
A child’s, but why that child would scrawl
A phrase so apt for now is beyond recall:
On opening a long unopened book.
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
War abroad. Socialists on the rise. AI upending human life. Endless uproar online. The modern attention economy doesn’t want readers — it wants users enslaved to the tyranny of the present.
First Things is the antidote: literary excellence, timeless truths, and a fixed point of reference in a culture that has lost its bearings.
But we can’t do it without readers like you.
Our goal: Raise $150,000 by November 1 to sustain First Things in the year ahead.
Your gift anchors readers in the permanent things.
Make your Fall Campaign gift now using the button below.
If you have any questions or would like more information, please contact Giovanni Del Piero, Director of the Editor’s Circle, at gdelpiero@firstthings.com or 212-627-1985.
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