A Trip to the Botanical Garden

We spent the day in Memphis running errands. Mostly, we had a list of things we had to get done and places we had to go. I picked up two leather bound books at an estate sale for about $30, not bad for a good copy of Plato and a much better—complete—copy of Tristram Shandy than the one I had. However, at one point we were close enough to the Botanical Garden to spend an hour or so. As we walked around, feeding the koi and admiring the beauty, this poem came to mind (minus the last stanza about how only a virtuous soul lives forever).

Virtue
By George Herbert

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky:
The dew shall weep thy fall to night;
For thou must die.

Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye:
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie;
My music shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.

--1633

I might go to the zoo tomorrow. We shall see how things go.