This poem was composed on a computer. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

The poem consists of a single line, 'and every hair on your head shall be numbered repetitively overtyped.' This line is modified from Matthew 10:29-31 29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 So don?t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

The poem is typed on red stock paper and is based upon John Donne's sermon with the noted paragraph that reads, 'No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.' -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

The poem is typed on white stock paper (another copy is on red stock paper) and is based upon John Donne's sermon with the noted paragraph that reads, 'No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.' -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

Edited by Peter Finch. This is issue No.2 in the second aeon folder series. Issue No.1 is Bob Cobbing's "Songsignals," which is also held by the Sackner Archive. These are the only issues published. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

J.P. Ward is John Powell Ward. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.

The fisrst stanza of the original poem by Henry Vaughn reads: I saw Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright; And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres Like a vast shadow mov'd; in which the world And all her train were hurl'd. The doting lover in his quaintest strain Did there complain; Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights, Wit's sour delights, With gloves, and knots, the silly snares of pleasure, Yet his dear treasure All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour Upon a flow'r. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.