When my day has not gone according to plan, I reach for the words of other, better writers. I leave you with this work by an exquisite poet, with a fond glance backward and my best wishes for a good night to you all.
“She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways”, by William Wordsworth
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!