my wedding and other complications: you had a bad day

oh, Daniel Powter has got my number. and how!
because today, my bad day, i found out that my formal china pattern has been discontinued.

fare thee well, Orsay Powder Blue place setting.

so, yeah, it's not the *end* of the world. but i really, really, really loved my china. (see how i call it "my china" still, even though it's not to be?)
and who better to express my bad day than John Dryden? (oh, come *on*, you did not think i was going to channel my grief through Daniel Powter*, did you?!)

To The Memory Of Mr. Oldham
by John Dryden

Farewell, too little and too lately known,
Whom I began to think and call my own;
For sure our souls were near allied, and thine
Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike,
And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike.
To the same goal did both our studies drive;
The last set out the soonest did arrive.
Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place,
While his young friend performed and won the race.
O early ripe! to thy abundant store
What could advancing age have added more?
It might (what Nature never gives the young)
Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue.
But satire needs not those, and wit will shine
Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
A noble error, and but seldom made,
When poets are by too much force betrayed.
Thy generous fruits, though gathered ere their prime,
Still showed a quickness; and maturing time
But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhyme.
Once more, hail and farewell! farewell, thou young,
But ah too short, Marcellus of our tongue!
Thy brows with ivy and with laurels bound;
But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.