Divine Inspiration of a Drunken Dead Man

I was walking home from work and realized the night sky was overwhelmingly beautiful. Last night's clear skies made for a perfect view of the lunar eclipse, and tonight the full moon shone brighter than I think I've ever seen it, encompassed on each side by Saturn and the brightest star in the Leo constellation.

As I was walking, I realized that in winter, the clearest most beautiful nights are often the most frigid. Something to ponder...

I was also reminded strangely of my favourite poem, by my favourite poet, Irish Romantic Thomas Moore. I thought I would share his words on this crisp and cold winter's night.

OH! think not my spirits are always as light,

And as free from a pang as they seem to you now,

Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night

Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow.

No: -- life is a waste of wearisome hours,

Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,

Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

But send round the bowl, and be happy awhile --

May we never meet worse, in our pilgrimage here,

Than the tear that enjoyment may gild with a smile,

And the smile that compassion can turn to a tear.

The thread of our life would be dark, Heaven knows

If it were not with friendship and love intertwined;

And I care not how soon I may sink to repose,

When these blessing shall cease to be dear to my mind.

But they who have loved the fondest, the purest,

Too often have wept o'er the dream they believed;

And the heart that has slumber'd in friendship securest

Is happy indeed if 'twas never deceived.

But send round the bowl; while a relic of truth

Is in man or in woman, this prayer shall be mine, --

That the sunshine of love may illumine our youth,

And the moonlight of friendship console our decline.