from Epigrams: A Journal, #8

If wisdom, as it seems it is, Be the recovery of some bliss From the conditions of disaster— Terror the servant, man the master— It does not follow we should seek Crises to prove ourselves unweak. Much of our lives, God knows, is error, But who will trifle with unrest? These fools who would solicit terror, Obsessed with being unobsessed; Professionals of experience Who have disasters to withstand them As if fear never had unmanned them, Flaunt a presumptuous innocence. I have preferred indifference.