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Saturday Sonnet.

We have a deck to stain and little good weather to do it. We worked until sunset, hence this is up late.

Earlier in the day I had seen a photographer taking yet another photo of the Dunedin Railway station, while golden light illumined the statue of justice on the gothic law courts behind him.

But there are none that can see if they are blinded by their goal, and too often that is their greed. Sydney knew this well.


Rich fooles there be whose base and filthy heart
Lies hatching still the goods wherein they flow,
And damning their own selues to Tantals smart,
Wealth breeding want; more rich, more wretched growe:

Yet to those fooles Heau’n doth such wit impart
As what their hands do hold, their heads do know,
And knowing loue, and louing lay apart
As sacred things, far from all dangers show.

But that rich foole, who by blind Fortunes lot
The richest gemme of loue and life enioys,
And can with foule abuse such beauties blot;
Let him, depriu’d of sweet but vnfelt ioys,

Exild for ay from those high treasures which
He knowes not, grow in only folly rich!

Sir Philip Sydney

People say you have to sacrifice to get to the top. True. I have done my share of 100 hour working weeks. But it is better to not get to the top and remain human. To love, and not be a fool.

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