I have now spoken to numerous Comcast representatives, one person from Apple (who told me he was sorry I had to deal with all this when I was sick—how precious!), and finally, a young man named Praveen at Linksys support who reset my router, and made all my dreams come true. Because we were on the phone for an hour, poor Praveen had to listen to me wheezing, coughing, and altogether sounding pretty horrific. (I have bronchitis, as it turns out.) With complete sincerity, Praveen urged me to drink lemon tea for my cough. I love him.
Today's poem comes to us courtesy of my future sister-in-law Jasmine, who probably thought I completely overlooked it, considering she emailed it to me about three months ago. I was just waiting for the most appropriate time to use it, though. Today is that day.
(Plus, Jasmine has apparently created three separate identities in an effort to follow and comment on my blog, so that warrants some hat tip love, don't you think? I still don't understand why these three identities are necessary, Jazzy, but hey, it gives me more followers, so why not?)
Read the lovely poem after the jump.
by Adelaide Proctor
Do not cheat thy Heart and tell her,
"Grief will pass away,
Hope for fairer times in future,
And forget to-day."—
Tell her, if you will, that sorrow
Need not come in vain;
Tell her that the lesson taught her
Far outweighs the pain.
Cheat her not with the old comfort,
"Soon she will forget"—
Bitter truth, alas—but matter
Rather for regret;
Bid her not "Seek other pleasures,
Turn to other things:"—
Rather nurse her caged sorrow
'Till the captive sings.
Rather bid her go forth bravely.
And the stranger greet;
Not as foe, with spear and buckler,
But as dear friends meet;
Bid her with a strong clasp hold her,
By her dusky wings—
Listening for the murmured blessing
Sorrow always brings.