Uploaded on August 20, 2011
This Life, which seems so fair,
is like a bubble blown up in the air
by sporting children’s breath,
who chase it everywhere
and strive who can most motion it bequeath.
And though it sometimes seem of its own might
like to an eye of gold to be fixëd there,
and firm to hover in that empty height,
that only is because it is so light.
But in that pomp it doth not long appear;
for when ’tis most admired, in a thought,
because it erst was nought, it turns to nought.
—William Drummond
The Giant Book of Poetry
edited by William H. Roetzheim
08.20.2023: We all went to the lake today. There were no bubbles this time, but there was a little one.