‘Thank you, whatever comes.' And then she turned <br />And, as the ray of sun on hanging flowers <br />Fades when the wind hath lifted them aside, <br />Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatever comes <br />One hour was sunlit and the most high gods <br />May not make boast of any better thing <br />Than to have watched that hour as it passed.<br /><br />Ezra Pound<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/erat-hora/
