Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn. — Wordsworth
Or we could just hear the Bee Gees sing their wreathèd song… and by that be redeemed and removed from the Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds that pollute our broken world.
It’s Friday afternoon and you’ve got nothing special going on and I’ve had a hell of a week and am weary of the present putrescence.
Let’s take a break. Come on over.
That was great. Let’s hear it again from someone who legitimately held the title of “Sexiest Man on Earth”… and then he married and devoted himself to his wife alone. Big life and he’s still standing.
Barry Gibb in this performance could convert me. I don’t understand how he can perform like that while being buffeted by the towering tsunamis of estrogen emitted by his audience.
Speaking of EstrogenAmericans, let YouTube commenter Jessie Myrle speak for them when she notes: I hope I am not the only old woman that recognizes PURE MALE PERFECTION when she sees it. And now that Berry and I are both 74 I still think pure male perfection!!