Love…endures all things.
1 Cor. 13:7
Frankly, for the time being, the whole point of this blog is to count.
Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem “Adonais” has a couple stanzas that, though depressing, struck me:
‘Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit’s knife
Invulnerable things.-We decay
Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
Convulse us and consume us day by day,
And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again;
From the contagion of the world’s slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn…