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XLIV



If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,

Injurious distance should not stop my way;

For then despite of space I would be brought,

From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.

No matter then although my foot did stand

Upon the farthest earth remov\'d from thee;

For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,

As soon as think the place where he would be.

But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,

To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,

But that so much of earth and water wrought,

I must attend, time\'s leisure with my moan;

  Receiving nought by elements so slow

  But heavy tears, badges of either\'s woe.

 	--William Shakespeare

CV



Let not my love be call\'d idolatry,

Nor my beloved as an idol show,

Since all alike my songs and praises be

To one, of one, still such, and ever so.

Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,

Still constant in a wondrous excellence;

Therefore my verse to constancy confin\'d,

One thing expressing, leaves out difference.

\'Fair, kind, and true,\' is all my argument,

\'Fair, kind, and true,\' varying to other words;

And in this change is my invention spent,

Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.

  Fair, kind, and true, have often liv\'d alone,

  Which three till now, never kept seat in one.

 	--William Shakespeare

Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.
T. S. Eliot