Clarity

well all i have to say is thank God for Sabrina. there are days when i see her and i feel so guilty for getting paid to be there, because she does more for me sometimes than i could ever do for her. on days like today, i see her and she is so full of happiness, and she always appreciates the small stuff. she knows how to take joy in everythign and she is never cruel or hurtful towards anyone. its at moments like this that i am given a moment of clarity, that i should be more like sabrina, and i realise i should live in each moment and find the joy in everything. and i sing buddy holly to her and she wraps her arms around me as we dance and everything is right in this world for only a moment. Thank God for Sabrina.

Sabrina Fair by John Milton
Song
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph that liv'st unseen

Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green,

And in the violet-imbroider'd vale

Where the love-lorn nightingale

Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair

That likest thy Narcissus are?

O if thou haveHid them in some flow'ry cave,Tell me but where

Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere,

So mayst thou be translated to the skies,

And give resounding grace to all heav'ns harmonies.
Song
Sabrina fair

Listen where thou art sitting

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,

In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;

Listen for dear honour's sake,Goddess of the silver lake,Listen and save.

Listen and appear to us In name of great Oceanus,

By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace,And Tethys' grave majestic pace;

By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,And the Carpathian wizard's hook;

By scaly Triton's winding shell,And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell;

By Leucothea's lovely hands,And her son that rules the strands;

By Thetis' tinsel-slipper'd feet,And the songs of Sirens sweet;

By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,And fair Ligea's golden comb,

Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks

Sleeking her soft alluring locks;

By all the nymphs that nightly dance

Upon thy streams with wily glance,

Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head

From thy coral-pav'n bed,

And bridle in thy headlong wave,T

ill thou our summons answer'd have.Listen and save.
Sabrina rises, attended by water-nymphs, and sings
By the rushy-fringed bank,Where grows the willow and the osier dank,

My sliding chariot stays,Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheenOf turkis blue, and em'rald green

That in the channel strays,Whilst from off the waters fleet

Thus I set my printless feetO'er the cowslip's velvet head,

That bends not as I tread;Gentle swain at thy requestI am here.