By Percy Bysshe Shelley
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!—yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest.—A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
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I spent the entire day at my parents' watching movies with my family -- a necessity since we had no power when we left to come here at 10 a.m. (we slept late, of course, since the kids had no school), and the county had asked people to please stay off the major roads unless we absolutely had to drive on them. It was actually a very nice low-key day -- my mom made us French toast since we couldn't eat breakfast at home (we wanted to leave the refrigerator closed in hope of saving some of the food), then we watched some of the Australian Open with my dad, then we ordered a pizza for lunch, then we watched Red (which is fluffy but a lot of fun -- there is no comedy with Helen Mirren as an assassin and Bruce Willis and Morgan Freeman as spy partners that I'm not going to enjoy), then we went home to check on the cats, then we had spaghetti for dinner, then we watched Inception since my parents hadn't seen it. Now, finally, we have power on at home, though no cable (either TV or internet), and the kids have no school again Friday because the roads aren't clear, so I have to figure out what to do with them once more!
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