Talking to Ike reminded me of this:
| What wondrous life in this I lead! | |
| Ripe apples drop about my head; | |
| The luscious clusters of the vine | 35 |
| Upon my mouth do crush their wine; | |
| The nectarine and curious peach | |
| Into my hands themselves do reach; | |
| Stumbling on melons, as I pass, | |
| Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass. | 40 |
| Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less | |
| Withdraws into its happiness; | |
| The mind, that ocean where each kind | |
| Does straight its own resemblance find; | |
| Yet it creates, transcending these, | 45 |
| Far other worlds, and other seas; | |
| Annihilating all that 's made | |
To a green thought in a green shade HenryValensi+GreenSymphony+1935  |
