We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
If you could not tell, Percy is a poet. Here’s a Wikipedia link for more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percy_Bysshe_Shelley
Have a great Wednesday, folks!
Until next time…