To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses
By John Keats
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
I thought the garden-rose it far excell'd:
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me
My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell'd.
My Super Tuesday was not particularly super (and that was even before Santorum started winning primaries, making me look into the immigration rules for Canada and Great Britain). Adam woke up feeling okay and even went to tennis after school, giving me the opportunity to take a walk through Cabin John Park where spring is starting to emerge, though the creek is still pretty low -- I got back to the tennis center just as the sun was setting and the moon was rising and they both looked enormous on opposite horizons -- but after tennis he felt awful, slept through dinner and likely will not go to school tomorrow.
Otherwise my day consisted of work and chores and catching up on phone calls and e-mails, though I still owe several so please bear with me if you're on the to-get-back-to list. We took a break from the primary results to watch Ringer, which is vastly more entertaining than any speech Romney has ever given and I'd vote for most of the villains over Santorum -- okay, not Bodaway Macawi, but definitely Olivia Charles who's not even American -- and now I am letting Colbert talk me down from my queasiness after Stewart's coverage of election-year nuclear posturing in Iran, Israel, and here. I was too distracted to color-correct these Mount Vernon piggies but they are still adorable: