In this fair world of God's...
I got up early this morning, and when I looked out the window the stars seemed extra brilliant in the sky. Today is going to be as lovely as yesterday, with the promise of beautiful weather all weekend. What's not to love about going into the weekend with good weather and time to spend with friends and family? My plans include a visit to the Uffizi Gallery tapestries on special exhibit here in town (I guess that means that next week we'll talk about Florence, Italy!), dinner with good friends, shoe shopping with my daughter and enjoying a family meal on Sunday with my son and daughter-in-law. I can't wait for the fun to begin! In the meantime, here is a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning that caught my eye. Elizabeth is one of the Victorian poets, and I find the end of this poem a little dreary, but I think the first lines are spot on...I think we are too ready with complaint in this fair world of God's.... Let's take today and enjoy it to its fullest!
Cheerfulness Taught By Reason
I THINK we are too ready with complaint
In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope
Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint
To muse upon eternity's constraint
Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop,
For a few days consumed in loss and taint ?
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted
And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod
To meet the flints ? At least it may be said
' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God. '
In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope
Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint
To muse upon eternity's constraint
Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop,
For a few days consumed in loss and taint ?
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted
And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod
To meet the flints ? At least it may be said
' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God. '
Night falls on the canals in Venice |
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