When a woman sits down to a meal alone, her beloved dead arrive to share it with her, but only at the last moment, the last possible moment, in her prayer that they will.
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When a woman sits down to a meal alone, her beloved dead arrive to share it with her, but only at the last moment, the last possible moment, in her prayer that they will.
“Born I was to meet with age,
And to talk life’s pilgrimage,
Much, I know, of time is spent,
Tell I can’t what’s resident.
Howsoever, cares, adieu;
I’ll have nought to say to you.
But I’ll spend my coming hours
Drinking wine, and crown’d with flowers.”
Robert Herrick | “On Himself”