REMARKS:
This lesson was an old one when Herrick counseled his young friends to gather rosebuds while it was still possible.
LIFE IS SHORT
(They are in a canoe, and the sun has just set, leaving behind it streaks of fading pink in the sky and on the water. It is spring, and the woods in the distance are losing their starkness. There is no breeze; the air is full of a premature languor that is not quite warmth. She lies half-prone, with her hand trailing in the lake; and he paddles slowly, watching her most of the time.)
She: Ooh, the water’s terribly cold. Have you gone swimming this spring?
You: Went in last week. But I was sorry. It’s colder than it looks from the diving-board. I was awfully surprised—it’s such a shock.
She: I wanted to try it today, it looked so warm. But I guess I’ll wait a while. Last year, all summer, we just lived in our suits. My suit was never dry. Don’t you love to swim? It’s my favorite exercise.
You: I think I like sailing better. It’s so fast.
She: Then you ought to like ice-boating. It’s much faster.
You: No. It’s too noisy. Fast things ought to be quiet. That’s the trouble with flying in a machine. It isn’t really flying unless you have wings. That must be the best feeling in the world. Flying in a storm....