Author: Essays Death Salesman (---.client.insightBB.com)
Date: 11-11-02 08:36
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Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul, and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed
Beated and chopp\'d with tanned antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
\'Tis thee,--myself,--that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Time\'s fickle glass, his fickle hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show\'st
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow\'st.
If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
And her quietus is to render thee.
They say marriages are made in Heaven. But so is thunder and lightning.
I\'m interested in the fact that the less secure a man is, the more likely
he is to have extreme prejudice.