16.04.02 – Tuesday
A funny color has settled on the trees, a noxious youthful green promising both the plenitude of fall and the mishaps of summer. Idle much of the morning. And the rest of the day, too.
O mind of man that does not know the end
or future fates, nor how to keep the measure
when we are fat with pride at things that prosper!
- Cf. Dryden’s version: ‘O mortals, blind in fate, who never know | To bear high fortune, or endure the low!’ [↩]