Thursday, May 15, 2014 @9:41 PM
"How be'th you like wind with the sand at thy feet
That in their swell number doth chorus defeat?"
"Find th'King of but land in his shadow: ask he! Who
Pinch'd water from air, who steals salt from the sea,
Who finds shelter in light, who serves love at a feast,
Who knows and knows not that the hav-er has least,
That better is nothing, that nothing is best, that
Th'fortuned he falls; the un-fortuned rest."