Tuesday, March 3, 2009


by George Herbert

Ah my deare angrie Lord,
Since thou dost love, yet strike;
Cast down, yet help afford;
Sure I will do the like.

I will complain, yet praise;
I will bewail, approve:
And all my sowre-sweet dayes
I will lament, and love.

24 weeks today, and I've now (by every count) been without my Max as long as I had him with me. That is overwhelmingly sad to me.

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