I thought I might send you the Keats poem we discussed, in case you were curious to read the rest (and if you aren't, absolutely no offense taken; I'm aware poetry isn't everyone's cup of tea).

When I have fears that I may cease to be
   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
   That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
   Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

I told you it wasn't long, but it manages to convey a lot — but I won't lecture. Just thought I'd pass it along in case it was of interest. In any case, it was lovely to meet you (or at least to actually have a chance to talk to you; I think we'd met before) at the soiree. I hope you have a happy Christmas and that your research goes well in the new year.

---