I was a haughty college student when I first met Mr Peck, and was full of vim, vinegar and a developing love for the English language. Following a holiday dinner, one evening, I found myself sitting close to him, and precociously started a conversation, and before I knew it, he was vibrantly discussing Shakespeare as if he were a late-night undergraduate himself … at a certain moment, he paused, slightly cocked somehow both his head and an eyebrow, and with a true gleam in his eye, asked, “Ahh, but what about Yeats?” He glanced around furtively, then motioned me to lean in closer. And with one of the greatest voices to ever grace our language, he recited the entirety of “The Lake Isle at Innesfree”. When he finished, he paused for a slow breath, and gave me a wink and a smile.