By Amy Levy
"O love, lean thou thy cheek to mine,
And let the tears together flow"—
Such was the song you sang to me
Once, long ago.
Such was the song you sang; and yet
(O be not wroth!) I scarcely knew
What sounds flow'd forth; I only felt
That you were you.
I scarcely knew your hair was gold,
Nor of the heavens’ own blue your eyes.
Sylvia and song, divinely mixt,
These things I scarcely knew; to-day,
When love is lost and hope is fled,
The song you sang so long ago
Rings in my head.
Clear comes each note and true; to-day,
As in a picture I behold
Your tur'd-up chin, and small, sweet head
Misty with gold.
I see how your dear eyes grew deep,
How your lithe body thrilled and swayed,
And how were whiter than the keys
Your hands that played...
Ah, sweetest! cruel have you been,
And robbed my life of many things.
I will not chide; ere this I knew
That Love had wings.
You’ve robbed my life of many things—
Of love and hope, of fame and pow'r.
So be it, sweet. You cannot steal
One golden hour.
My dining room table does not have a single thing on it except a tablecloth, something I don't believe has been true since the night before Adam's second birthday party. (Well, at the moment it may have a cat on it, because cats abhor a vacuum, but that is neither here nor there.) And more items of clothing have been washed and shoved into bags since the first time we drove across the country and back in 2003.
That may be the extent of the good news. Well, that and we found out that we can stay at Extended Stay America with all four cats, as long as we stay in separate rooms so there's no more than two cats per room. We watched this week's Canada love episode of The Handmaid's Tale after the Nationals victory, which was excellent but not relaxing. Here are photos of somewhere else I would rather be, on the beach in Delaware: